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J.A 


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TIJ 


>    O    R    K    S 

or  THE 

RIGHT  REVEREND 

WILLIAM  WARBURTON,  D.D. 

LORD    BISHOP  OF   GLOUCESTER. 

A    NEW    EDITION, 
IN   TWELVE   VOLUMES. 


TO    WIIJCII    IS    PRF.F1XED 

S'B  BK  rwi'  Of  GENERAL  PREFACE, 

CONTAINING 

SOME  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  LIFK,  WRmSGS,  AND  CHAHACTTO 
OF  T1IJE  AUTHOK; 

BY  RICHARD    HURD,  D.D. 

.IOBD  BISHOP  OF  \YORCE-T1,R 


VOLT)  ME   THE    EIGHT  H. 


Jlonfionj 

/ae.jr  7, 

T.CADF.LL  AND  M^DAVIKS.  UN  THK  STJiAN 
181  1. 


CONTENTS 

o? 

VOL.    VIII. 


JULIAN  :  or,  A  Discourse  concerning  the  Earthquake 
and  Fieri/  E>  upturn,  zchich  defeated  that  Emperors  Attempt 
to  rebuild  the  Temple  at  Jerusalem:  In  which  the  Reality 
of  a  Divine  Interposition  is  shewn  ;  the  Objections  to  it 
are  answered ;  and  the  Nature  of  that  Evidence,  which 
demands  the  Assent  of  every  reasonable  Man  to  a  Mira 
culous  Fact,  is  considered  and  explained. 

INTRODUCTION  *  P-  m- 

BOOK  I.— Chaps,  i .  to  5.   -  -       PP-  33—94 

I5ooK  II. — Chaps,  i.  to  6.— CONCLUSION,      pp.  95—236 

THE  DOCTRINE  OF  GRACE;  or,  The  Office  and 
Operations  of  the  Holy  Spirit  vindicated  from  the  Insults 
of  Infidelity  and  the  J  buses  of  Fanaticism:  With  some 
Thoughts  (humbly  offered  to  the  Consideration  of  the 
Esia:ms,ie:l  Clergy)  rejrardinsr  the  right  Method  of  dee 
fending  Keligiou  against  the  Attacks  of  either  Party. 

ADVERTISEMENT  to  the  First  Edition  -     p.  239 

PREFACE  -     ]"->•  241 

JSooK  I.— Chaps,  i.  to  10.  -     pp:  249— 302 

BOOK  LI.— Chaps,  i.  to  12.  -     pp.  3°3 — 4°6 

BOOK  III.— Chaps,  i.  to  3.  -     pp.  407 — 455 


J    U    L    IAN. 

OR,    A 

DISCOURSE, 
i 

CONCERNING 

THE  EARTHQUAKE  AND  FIERY  ERUPTION 

WHICH   DEFEATED  THAT  EMPEROR^ 
ATTEMPT  TO  REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE  AT  JERUSALEM  : 

IN   WHICH 

THE  REALITY  OF  A  DIVINE  INTERPOSITION 

IS    SHEWN-, 

THE    OBJECTIONS    TO    IT 

ARE    ANSWERED-, 

AND  THE  NATURE  OF  THAT  EVIDENCE, 

WHICH  DEMANDS  THE  ASSENT  OF  EVERY  REASONABLE 
MAN   TO   A   MIRACULOUS   FACT, 

15    CONSIDERED    AND    EXPLAINED. 


Nesciunt  Necessaria,  quia  supervacanea  dedicerunt. 

SENECA. 


VOL.  VIII,  B 


INTRODUCTION. 


A  SOVEREIGN  Contempt  for  the  authority  of 
the    FATHERS,  and  no  great  reverence  for  any 
other,  is  what  now-a-days  constitutes  a  Protestant  in 
fashion.     But,  as  I  imagine  Religion  loseth  somewhat, 
and  Learning  a  great  deal  more,  by  the  neglect  in  which 
the  FATHERS  lye  at  present,  I  should  have  been  tempted 
to  say  a  word  or  two  in  their  behalf,  even  though  the 
subject  of  the  following  sheets  did  not  require  that 
they,  whose  testimony  I  make  some  use  of,  should 
have  their  pretensions  fairly  stated,  and  their  character 
examined.     But  what  is  here  insinuated  to  the  dis 
credit  of  the  present  mode  in  theology  with  regard  to 
the  FATHERS  is  by  no  means  said  in  favour  of  the 
past,  but  of  that  which  good  sense  seems  disposed  to 
place  between  them. 

Their  authority  had  now,  for  many  ages,  been  held 
sacred.  Although  by  taking  the  Greek  philosophy,  in 
which  they  had  been  nurtured,  for  their  guide  in  ex 
plaining  the  nature  and  genius  of  the  GOSPEL,  they 
had  unhappily  turned  religion  into  an  art ;  which 
their  successors,  the  SCHOOLMEN,  soon  after  turned 
into  a  trade.  But,  as  irfaTl  matters  where  reason  doth 
not  hoicTthe  balance,  that  authority,  which  had  been 
extravagantly  advanced,  was,  on  the  turn  of  the  times, 

B  2  a* 


iv  INTRODUCTION 

as  extravagantly  undervalued  :  It  may  not  therefore  be? 
amiss  to  acquaint  the  English  reader,  in  few  words, 
how  all  this  came  to  pass. 

When  the  avarice  and  ambition  of  the  church  of 
Rome  had,  by  working  with  the  superstition  and  igno 
rance  of  the  people,  erected  what  it  calls  the  HIE 
RARCHY,  which  was  the  digesting  an  ecclesiastical  policy 
on  the  ruins  of  gospel  liberty,  they  found  nothing  of 
such  use  for  the  a^iiimstratiori  and  support  of  this 
spiritual  system  *  as  the  making  the  authority  of  the 
FATHERS  sacred,  and  consequently  decisive.     For  this 
church  having  introduced  numerous  errors  and  super 
stitions,  both  in  rites  and  doctrines,  which  the  silence  and 
the  declarations  of  scripture  equally  condemned,  they 
were  obliged  to  seal  up  those  living  oracles,  and  open 
this  new  warehouse  of  the  dead.     And  it  was  no  won 
der  if,  in  that  shoal  of  writers  which  the  great  drag-net 
of  time  (as  a  poet  of  our  own  calls  it)  had  inclosed  and 
brought  down  to  us,  under  the  name  of  FATHERS,  there 
should  be  some  amongst  them  of  a  character  suited  to 
countenance  any  kind  of  folly  or  extravagance.     Their 
decisions,  therefore,  it  was  thought  fit  should  be  treated 
as  laws ;  and  collected  into  a  kind  of  code,  under  the 
title  of  the  Sentences. 

From  this  time  every  thing  was  tried  at  the  bar  of 
the  fathers ;  and  so  unquestioned  was  their  jurisdic 
tion,  that  when  the  great  Defection  was  made  from  the 
Church  of  Rome,  the  Reformed,  though  they  shook  off 
the  tyranny  of  the  POPE,  could  not  disengage  themselves 

*  Comme  1'autorite  fait  le  fondement  de  cettc  etude  [la^theo- 
logie]  il  est  juste  de  deferer  ABSOLUMENT  non  seulement  h  I'Ecn- 
ture  sainte,  mais  encore' aux  sentimens  des  Peres,  qm  nous  ont 
explique  la  tradition,  sur  tout  a  ceux  que  I'Eglita  a  canonisez,  pour 
ainsi  di  re,  par  son  approbation,  on  en  tout  ou  en  partie:  Traite 
etudes  monastiques,  par  Mabillon,  p.  360. 

from 


T  o  J  U  L I A  N.  T 

from  the  unbounded  authority  of  the  FATHERS;  but 
carried  that  prejudice  with  them  (as  they  did  some 
others,  of  a  worse  complexion)  into  the  REFORMATION'. 
For,  in  religious  matters,  novelty  being  suspicious,  and 
antiquity  venerable,  the  Reformed  thought  it  for  their 
credit  to  have  the  F ATHENS  on  their  side.  They  seemed 
neither  to  consider  antiquity  in  general  as  a  thing  rela 
tive,  nor  Christian-antiquity  as  a  thing  positive:  either 
of  which  considerations  would  have  shewn  them,  that 
the  FATHERS  themselves  were  modern,  compared  to 
that  authority  on  which  the  Reformed  founded  their 
churches  ;  and  that  the  GOSPEL  was  that  true  antiquity 
on  which  they  should  repose  their  confidence  *.  The 
effect  of  this  error  w7as,  that  in  the  long  appeal  to  truth 
between  Protestants  and  Papists  (both  of  them  going  on 
a  common  principle,  that  the  authority  of  the  FATHERS 
was  decisive),  the  latter  were  enabled  to  prop  up  their 
credit  against  all  the  evidence  of  common  sense  and 
sacred  scripture. 

*  The  Roman  Catholics  have  long  objected  to  us  the  antiquity 
of  their  church,  as  one  of  its  greatest  supports.  But  none  of  them 
have~Been  so  ingenuous  as  the  excellent  author  of  L'Esprit  dts  Loix, 
to  point  out  wherein  the  force  of  this  argument  consists.  "  L'an- 
tiquite  (fays  he)  cohvient  a  la  Religion,  parce  -que  souvent  nous 
croyons  plus  les  choses  k  mesure  qurelles  sont  plus  reculees:  car 
nous  n'avons  pas  dans  la  tete  des  idees  accessoires  tirees  de  ces 
terns-Ik  qui  puissent  les  contredire."  Vol.  II.  p.  203,  8vo  ecL 
Force  we  see  it  has.  But  then  unluckily  it  lyes  in  the  supposition  of 
Popery's  being  a  false,  not  a  true  church.  For  though  false  religion 
acquires  an  advantage  from  the  oblivion  of  those  discrediting 
circumstances  which  attended  its  original,  and  of  which  by  time 
we  are  now  deprived;  yet  true  religion  receives  much  damage  from 
the  same  effects  of  time  ;  because  several  circumstances,  long  since 
lost,  which  accompanied  its  birih,  must  neeHs  have  greatly  con 
firmed  its  character.  For  it  is  as  much  in  the  nature  of  things  that 
the  circumstances  attending  truth  should  confirm  it,  as  that  the 
circumstances  attending  error  should  detect  it. 

B3  At 


vi  INTRODUCTION 

At  length  an  excellent  writer  of  the  Reformed  reli 
gion,  observing  that  the  controversy  was  likely  to  be 
endless  (for  though  the  gross  corruptions  of  Popery 
were  certainly  later  than  the  third,  fourth,  and  fifth 
centuries,  to  which  the  appeal  was  usually  made,  yet 
the  seeds  of  them  being  then  sown,  and  beginning  to 
pullulate,  it  was  but  too  plain  theie  was  hold  enough 
for  a  skilful  debater  to  draw  the  FATHERS  to  his  own 
side,  and  make  them  water  the  sprouts  they  had  been 
planting);  M.  Daille,  I  say,  observing  this,  wisely  pro 
jected  to  shift  the  ground,  and  force  the  disputants  on 
both  sides  to  vary  their  method  of  attack  as  well  as 
of  defence.  In  order  to  this  he  composed  a  discourse 
Of  the  true  use  of  the  Fathers  *.  In  w^hich,  with 
admirable  learning,  and  force  of  argument,  he  shewed, 
that  the  FATHERS  were  incompetent  Deciders  of  the 
controversies  now  on  foot ;  since  the  points  in  question 
were  not  formed  into  articles  till  long  after  the  ages  in 
which  those  FATHERS  lived.  This  was  bringing  them 
from  the  bench  to  the  table ;  degrading  them  from  the 
rank  of  judges,  into  the  class  of  simple  evidence;  in 
which  Daille  too  was  not  for  suffering  them  to  speak, 
like  Irish  Evidence,  in  every  cause  where  they  were 
wanted,  but  only  to  such  matters  as  were  agreed  to  be 
within  their  competence.  Had  this  learned  critic 
stopped  here,  his  book  had  been  free  from  blame ; 
but  then  in  all  likelihood  his  honest  purpose  had  been 
rendered  ineffectual:  for  old  prejudices  are  not  to  be  set 
straight  by  barely  reducing  the  obliquity  to  that  straight 
line  which  just  restores  it  to  its  rectitude.  He  went  much 
further  :  and  by  shewing,  occasionally,  that  they  were 
absurd  interpreters  of  scripture;  that  they  were  bad 
reasoners  in  morals;  and  very  loose  evidence  in  facts; 
he  seemed  willing  to  have  his  reader  infer,  that,  even 

*  De  I'Emploi  dcs  Peres. 

though 


TO  JULIAN.  vS 

though  they  had  been  masters  of  their  subject,  yet  these 
other  detects  would  have  rendered  them  very  unquali 
fied  deciders. 

However,  the  work  of  this  famous  foreigner  had 
great  consequences .:  and  especially  with  us  here  at 
home.  The  more  learned  amongst  the  nobility  (an 
order,  which,  at  that  time,  was  of  the  republic  of 
letters)  were  the  first  who  emancipated  themselves 
from  the  general  prejudice.  It  brought  the  incom 
parable  LoTd_Falkland  to  think  moderately  of  the 
FATHERS,  and  to  turn  his  theological  inquiries  into  a 
more  useful  channel.  And  his  great  rival  in  arts,  though 
not  in  virtue,  the  famous  Lord  Dig  by,  found  it  of 
such  use  to  him,  in  his  defence  of  the  Reformed  religion 
against  his  cousin  Sir  Kenhelm,  that  he  has  even  epi 
tomised  temploi  des  Peres,  in  his  fine  Letter  on  that 
subject.  But,  what  it  hath  chiefly  to  boast  is,  that  it 
gave  birth  to  the  two  best  defences  ever  written,  on 
the  two  best  of  subjects,  Religion  and  Liberty,  I  mean 
Mr.  Chilling-worth's  Religion  of  Protestants,  and  Dr. 
Jer.  Taylor  s  Liberty  of  Prophesying.  In  a  word,  it 
may  be  truly  said  to  be  the  storehouse,  from  whence  all 
who  have  since  written  popularly  on  the  character  of 
the  FATHERS  have  derived  their  materials. 

Dr.  Whitby,  in  whose  way  they  fell  as  Interpreters 
of  Scripture,  hath,  in  imitation  of  the  pattern  Daille 
set  him,  made  a  large  collection  from  their  writings, 
to  expose  their  talents  for  criticism*.  In  the  same 
manner,  and  in  a  larger  volume,  Mr.  Barbeyrac  after 
wards  treated  their  pretensions  to  the  science  of 
Ethics  | :  And  now  of  late  the  very  learned  and  inge 
nious  Dr.  Middleton,  finding  them  in  the  support  of 
Monkish  miracles,  hath  written  as  largely  to  prove 

*  Dissert,  de  S.  S.  interpretations  sccuad.  P&tres. 
f  La  Morale  des  Peres,  fyc. 

B4  their 


viii  INTRODUCTION 

their  testimony  in  matters  of  fact  to  be  none  of  the 
strongest. 

So  that  these  .several  constituent  parts  of  their  cha 
racter  being  thus  taken  up  in  their  turns;  and  the 
whole  order  exposed,  as  incompetent  judges  of  doc 
trine,  as  trilling  interpreters  of  scripture,  as  bad  mo 
ralists,  and  as  slippery  evidence ;  it  is  no  wonder  the 
English  reader,  who  only  measures  them  by  such  repre 
sentations,  should  be  disposed  to  think  very  irreverently 
of  these  early  lights  of  the  Christian  Church. 

But,  let  us  divest  ourselves  of  prejudice,  whether 
we  think  with  the  few  or  the  many  ;  and  we  shall  soon 
understand  that  in  the  heat  of  a  contention  evidence 
will  be  apt  to  be  overrated.  Nay,  when  fairly  esti 
mated,  no  reflecting  man  will  think  himself  able  to 
form  a  true  judgment  of  a  character',  when  no  more  of 
it  is  laid  before  him  than  a  collection  of  its  blots  and 
blemishes. 

Till  of  late,  there  were  always  some  who  could  pre 
serve  their  candour  and  moderation,  which  in  religion 
and  politics,  where  our  highest  interests  are  concerned, 
is  no  easy  matter ;  and  these  men  were  wont  to  say, 
"  That  though  we  should  indeed  suppose  the  fathers 
to  be  as  fanciful  divines,  as  bad  critics,  and  as  unsafe 
moralists,  as  Daille,  Whitby,  and  Barbeyrac,  are 
pleased  to  represent  them,  yet  this  would  take  little 
from  the  integrity  of  their  evidence  :  and  what  we 
want  of  the.n  is  only  their  testimony  to  facts."  But 
now,  even  this  small  remain  of  credit  is  thought  too 
much  to  be  allowed  them  ;  and,  of  this,  the  learned 
author  of  the  Free  Inquiry,  by  exposing  their  excessive 
credulity  in  point  of  false  miracles*,  hath  laboured  to 

deprive 

*  "•  Videmus,  quanto  dignitatis  detrimento  hie  error  credendi 
"  recipiendique  omnia  facilitas  afiecerit  ex  ecclesiasticis  historiis 

"  nonnullasj 


TO    JULIAN.  ix 

deprive  them.  But,  controversy  apart,  their  testimony 
to  common  facts  may  yet  stand  good.  I  see  no  reason 
why  their  veracity  should  be  brought  in  question  when 
they  bear  witness  to  the  state  of  religion  in  their  own 
times,  because  they  disgraced  their  judgment,  in  giving 
ear  to  every  strange  tale  of  Monkish  extraction.  The 
most  learned  and  virtuous  divine  of  the  barbarous 
ages  is  the  venerable  Bede ;  and  the  honestest  as 
well  as  most  discerning  historian  of  those,  or  perhaps 
of  any  age,  is  Matthew  Paris  :  yet  their  propensity  to 
recount  the  wonderful  exceeds  ail  imagination.  Nei 
ther  learning,  judgment,  nor  integrity,  could  secure 
them  against  the  general  contagion.  Now,  if  this  dis 
position  was  in  them  (as  is  confessed)  only  the  vice  of 
the  times,  is  it  not  imjust  to  ascribe  the  same  dispo 
sition  in  the  fathers,  to  the  vice  of  the  men  ? 

But  our  folly  has  ever  been,  and  is  likely  to  conti 
nue,  to  judge  of  antiquity  by  a  modern  standard  : 
when,  if  we  would  form  reasonable  ideas  of  it,  we 
should  weigh  it  with  its  own.  We  examine  the  conceits 
of  a  BASIL  or  an  AUSTIN,  on  the  test  of  the  improved 
reasoning  of  our  own  times.  And  we  do  well.  It 
is  the  way  to  read  them  with  profit.  But  when,  from 
a  contempt  of  their  logic,  which  follows  this  compa 
rison,  wre  come  to  despise  their  other  accomplishments 
of  parts  and  learning,  we  betray  gross  ignorance  or 
injustice.  To  know  the  true  value  of  the  fathers,  we 
should  place  them  by  their  contemporaries,  the  Pagan 
writers  of  greatest  estimation ;  and  if  they  suffer  in 
their  neighbourhood ;  e'en  let  them  stay,  where  most 
of  them  already  are,  with  the  grocers.  But  it  is  a  fact 

none 

"  nonnullas  ;  quae  nimis  facilesse  prrebuerunt,  in  prodendis  trans- 
"  cribendisque  miraculis,  a  martyribus,  eremitis,  anachoretis,  et 
"  aliis  sanctis  viris,  atque  ab  eorum  reliquiis,  sepulcris,  sacellis, 
"  imaginibus  editis."  Bacon  de  Augm.  Scien. 


x  INTRODUCTION 

none  acquainted  with  antiquity  will  deny,  how  great  a 
secret  soever  modern  divines  may  make  of  it,  that  as 
polite  scholars  (which  is  the  thing  their  despisers  now 
most  affect  to  value)  the  Christian  writers  have  indis 
putably  the  advantage,  both  in  eloquence  and  ethics. 
And  we  may  venture  to  say  that  there  are  some  of 
them  who  have  successively  rivaled  the  best  writers  of 
the  higher  and  purer  antiquity.  St.  Chrysostome  has 
more  good  sense  than  Plato ;  and  the  critic  may  find 
in  Lactantius  almost  as  many  good  words  as  in  Tully. 
So  that  if  on  the  principles  of  a  classical  taste,  we 
discard  the  fathers,  we  should  send  along  with  them 
the  Pagan  writers  of  the  same  ages ;  unless  the  won 
derful  theology  of  the  latter  can  atone  for  (what  they 
both  have  in  commonj  their  false  rhetoric  and  bad 
reasoning. 

These  imperfections,  therefore,  in  both,  being  equal, 
it  is  plain  they  were  the  faults  of  the  times.  For 
whatever  advantages  the  ancients  had  over  us  in  the 
arts  of  poetry,  oratory,  and  history,  it  is  certain,  we 
have  over  them  in  the  science  of  reasoning,  as  far  as  it 
concerns  the  investigation  of  moral  truth. 

Those  who  are  not  able  to  form  a  comparison  be 
tween  them,  on  their  own  knowledge,  may  be  recon 
ciled  to  this  conclusion,  when  the  peculiar  hindrances, 
in  the  ancient  world,  to  the  advancement  of  moral 
truth,  on  the  principles  of  a  just  logic,  have  been  laid 
before  them. 

The  cultivation  of  the  art  of  reasoning  was,  in  the 
most  early  times  of  learning,  in  the  hands  of  their 
ORATORS  and  SOPHISTS.  Whatever  was  the  profes 
sion,  the  real  business  of  the  orator  was  not  to  con 
vince,  but  to  persuade ;  and  not  in  favour  of  truth, 
but  of  convenience  or  utility :  which,  again,  was  not 
general  utility  (for  that  coincides  with  truth),  but 
23  particular; 


TO    JULIAN.  xi 

particular;  which  is  often  at  variance  with  it.  So 
that  their  art  of  reasoning  was  as  much  an  art  to 
hinder  the  discovery  of  truth*,  as  to  promote  it 
Nor  was  that  part  which  was  employed  in  the  support 
of  error  merely  lost  to  the  service  of  truth.  The 
mischief  went  further.  It  brought  in  man,  fallacious 
rules  and  modes  of  reasoning,  which  greatly  embar 
rassed  and  misled  the  advocate  when  employed  in 
a  better  cause.  Particularly  those  by  similitude  and 
analogy  :  which  had  their  rise  from  hence ;  and  soon 
spread,  like  a  leprosy,  over  all  the  argumentation  of 
antiquity. 

We  need  not  wonder  then,  if  under  this  manage 
ment  truth  was  rarely  found.  What  seems  to  be 
more  wonderful  is,  that,  when  it  was  tbund,  its  value 
was  so  little  understood  that  it  was  as  frequently 
sacrificed  to  the  empty  vanity ,  as  to  the  more  solid 
interests  of  the  disputer.  For  the  sophists,  the  spe 
culative  inquirers  after  truth,  made  their  wisdom  (from 
whence  they  took  their  name)  to  consist  in  bringing 
truth  to  the  side  of  their  reasoning;  not  their  reasoning 
to  the  side  of  truth.  Hence  it  became  the  glory  of 
their  profession  to  demonstrate  for,  or  against  any 
opinion,  indifferently :  and  they  were  never  better 
pleased  than  when  that  proposition  (let  it  be  what  it 
would)  was  prescribed  to  them  for  their  subject, 
which  their  auditors  had  a  mind  should  be  the  truth. 
The  difficulties  they  frequently  had  to  encounter, 
in  support  of  so  extravagant  a  character,  introduced 
into  the  ancient  reasoning  new  modes  of  fallacies,  a 
set  of  metaphysical  quibbles ;  which  being  the  inven 
tion  of  these  SOPHISTS,  or  wise  men,  are  fitted  only 
to  impose  on  others  as  wise. 

*  Ubi  vero  animis  judirum  vis  afferenda  est,  et  ab  ipsa  veri 
contemplatione  abduceiida  mens,  IBI  PROPRIUM  ORATORIS  OPUS 
£ST.  Quint.  1.  vi.  c.  li. 

But 


xii  INTRODUCTION 

But  though  so  much  had  been  done  to  betray,  to 
discredit,  and  to  estrange  us  from  truth  ;  yet  common 
sense  revolts  against  every  thing  when  it  becomes,  to 
a  certain  degree,  unnatural.  This  insolent  abuse  of 
reason,  now  proceeding  to  an  open  mockery  of  truth, 
brought  the  sophists  into  public  contempt ;  and  gave 
room  to  another  set  of  men,  of  a  modester  denomina 
tion,  to  raise  themselves  upon  their  ruins. 

These  were  the  PHILOSOPHERS:  and  to  these,  it 
must  be  owned,  the  Gentile  world  owed  all  its  real 
improvements  in  the  art  of  reasoning,  and  advance 
ment  in  truth.  But  the  defects  of  their  constitution, 
the  errors  of  their  principles,  and  the  folly  of  their  con 
duct,  were  so  great,  that  truth  was  kept  in  that  state 
of  inferiority,  in  \\hich,  we  say,  it  came  to  and  was 
unhappily  espoused  by  \bsfathefs.  It  would  ill  suit 
the  confined  nature  of  this  discourse  to  explain  these 
things  at  large  :  we  can  only  hint  at  some  of  the  most 
considerable  of  their  errors. 

They  soon  ran  into  the  two  extremes,  of  scepticism 
and  dogmatizing ;  of  all  other,  the  two  disorders  of  the 
mind,  most  hurtful  to  sound  reason.  These  maladies 
they  contracted  of  the  stock  from  which  they  sprung, 
the  sophists:  who,  by  their  custom  of  disputing  for 
and  against  every  thing,  brought  every  thing,  in  its 
turn,  according  to  the  temper  of  the  recipients,  to  be 
firmly  embraced,  or  wantonly  suspected.  For  extremes 
often  beget,  and,  when  they  have  begot,  always  sup 
port  one  another. 

A  second  violation  of  right  reason  was  that  prin 
ciple,  which  they  all  held  in  common,  that  truth  was 
ever  to  give  place  to  utility.  A  principle  which  had 
the  appearance  of  modesty,  as  seeming  only  to  imply, 
what  is  too  true,  that  we  are  less  able  to  judge  of 
causes  thane^ lets;  but,  indeed,  the  natural  issue  of 

the 


TO    JULIAN. 


Xlll 


the   inveteracy  and  absurdity  of  popular  Paganism, 
and  of  its  incorporation  with  the  state. 

Another  principle  as  universal,  and  no  less  injurious 
to  the  rights  of  reason,  was  that  the"  fundamental 
doctrines  of  each  sect  were  to  be  held  unquestioned 
by  its  followers.  For,  in  most  societies,  truth  is  but 
the  second  care ;  thejirstis  to  provide  for  themselves  : 
and  as  this  can  be  done  only  by  uniformity  of  opinions, 
and  opinions  will  continue  no  longer  uniform  than 
while  they  remain  unquestioned,  an  ifse  dixit  was  the 
rule  of  all,  though  the  badge  only  of  a  single  sect. 
These  several  defects  in  the  constitution  of  ancient 
philosophy  had,  in  course  of  time,  brought  on  others. 
The  dogmatists,  as  was  natural,  grew  enthusiastic ; 
and  the  sceptics  immoral.  The  t\vo  worst  disorders 
that  can  befall  a  searcher  after  truth ;  for  her  abode 
is  neither  in  the  clouds,  nor  on  the  dung-hill. 

Take  then  all  these  things  together,  and  we  shall 
see,  they  must  be  insuperable  bars  to  any  great  im 
provement,  in  the  science  of  moral  reasoning. 

But  to  this  it  will  be  said,  that  those  two  famous 
instruments  of  truth,  LOGIC  and  MATHEMATICS,  were, 
the  one  invented,  and  the  other  highly  advanced,  in 
these  ver)  ages.  It  is  certain  they  were.  But  if 
the  plain  truth  may  be  told,  the  use  of  these  boasted 
instruments  goes  no  further  than  to  assist  us,  the  one 
in  the  FORM  of  reasoning^  the  other  in  the  METHOD  of 
discourse. 

Aristotle's  invention  of  the  Categories  was  a  sur 
prising  effort  of  human  wit.  But,  in  practice,  logic 
is  more  a  trick  than  a  science,  formed  rather  to  amuse 
than  to  instruct.  And,  in  some  sort,  we  may  apply 
to  the  art  of  syllogism  what  a  man  of  wit  *  has  ob- 

*  Butler. 

served 


xiv  INTRODUCTION 

served  of  rhetoric,  that  it  only  tells  us  how  to  name 
those  tools,  which  nature  had  before  put  into  our 
hands,  and  habit  taught  the  use  of.  However,  all  its 
real  virtue  consists  in  the  compendious  detection  of  a 
fallacy.  This  is  all  the  service  it  can  do  for  truth.  In 
the  service  of  Chicane,  indeed,  it  is  a  mere  juggler's 
knot,  now  fast,  now  loose  ;  and  the  schools,  where  this 
legerdemain  was  exercised  in  great  perfection,  are  full 
of  the  stories  of  its  wonders.  But  its  true  value  is 
now  well  known :  and  there  is  but  little  need  to  put  it 
lower  in  the  general  estimation. 

However,  what  logic  hath  lost  of  its  credit,  mathe 
matics  have  gained.  And  geometry  is  now  supposed 
to  do  wonders  as  well  in  the  system  of  man  as  of  mat 
ter.  It  must  be  owned,  the  real  virtue  it  hath,  it 
had  acquired  long  since  :  for,  by  what  is  left  us  of 
antiquity,  we  see  how  elegantly  it  was  then  handled, 
and  how  sublimely  it  was  pursued.  But  the  truth  is, 
all  its  use,  for  the  purpose  in  question,  besides  what 
hath  been  already  mentioned,  seems  to  be  only  habi 
tuating  the  mind  to  think  long  and  closely :  and  it 
would  be  well  if  this  advantage  made  amends  for  some 
inconveniencies,  as  inseparable  from  its  study.  It 
may  seem  perhaps  too  much  a  paradox  to  say,  that 
long  habit  in  this  science  incapacitates  the  mind  for 
reasoning  at  large,  and  especially  in  the  search  of 
moral  truth.  And  yet,  I  believe,  nothing  is  more 
certain.  The  object  of  geometry  is  demonstration ; 
its  subject  admits  of  it,  and  is  almost  the  only  subject 
that  doth.  In  this  science,  whatever  is  not  demon 
stration,  goes  for  nothing ;  or  is  at  least  below  the 
sublime  inquirer's  regard.  Probability,  through  its 
almost  infinite  degrees,  from  simple  doubt  up  to  ab 
solute  certainty,  is  the  terra  incognita  of  the  geometer. 
And  yet  here  it  is  that  the  great  business  of  the 

human 


TO  JULIAN.  xv 

human  mind,  the  search  and  discovery  of  all  the  im 
portant  truths  which  concern  us  as  reasonable  beings, 
is  carried  on.  And  here  too  it  is  that  all  its  vigour 
is  exerted  :  for  to  proportion  the  assent  to  the  pro 
bability  accompanying  every  varying  degree  of  moral 
evidence,  requires  the  most  enlarged  and  sovereign 
exercise  of  reason.  But,  as  to  excel  in  the  use  of 
any  thing,  the  habit  must  always  be  in  proportion  to 
the  difficulty,  it  seems  very  unlikely  that  the  geometer 
(long  confined  to  the  routine  of  demonstration,  the 
easiest  exercise  of  reason,  where  much  less  of  the  vigour 
than  of  the  attention  of  mind  is  required  to  excel), 
should  form  a  right  judgment  on  subjects,  whose  truth 
or  falsehood  is  to  be  rated  on  the  degrees  of  moral 
evidence.  I  venture  to  call  mathematics  the  easiest 
exercise  of  reason,  on  the  authority  of  Cicero,  who  ob 
serves,  that  scarce  any  man  ever  set  himself  upon  this 
study,  'who  didnot  make  what  progress  in  it  he  pleased*. 
But  besides  acquired  inability,  prejudice  renders  the 
veteran  mathematician  still  less  capable  of  judging  of 
moral  evidence.  He  who  hath  been  so  long  accus 
tomed  to  lay  together  and  compare  ideas,  and  hath 
reaped  demonstration,  the  richest  fruit  of  speculative 
truth,  for  his  labour,  regards  all  the  lower  degrees  of 
evidence  as  in  the  trainonly  of  his  mathematical  prin 
cipality  :  and  he  commonly  ranks  them  in  so  arbitrary 
a  manner,  that  the  ratio  ultima  mathematicorum  is 
become  almost  as  great  a  libel  upon  common  sense,  as 
other  sovereign  decisions.  I  might  appeal,  for  the 
truth  of  this,  to  those  wonderful  conclusions  which 

*  Quis  ignorat.  ii,  qui  mathematici  vocantur,  quanta  in  ob- 
scuritate  rerum,  et  quam  recondita  in  arte  et  multiplici,  subtilique 
versentur  ?  quo  tamen  in  genere  ita  multi  pertecti  homines  exis- 
terunt,  ut  nemo  fere  studuisse  ei  scientiae  vehementius  videatur, 
qum  quod  voluerit,  consecutus  sit.  De  Orat.  1.  i. 

geometers, 


xvi  INTRODUCTION 

geometers,  when  condescending  to  write  on  history, 
ethics,  or  theology,  have  made  from  their  premisses. 
But  the  thing  is  notorious :  and  it  is  now  no  secret 
that  the  oldest  mathematician  in  England  is  the  worst 
reasoner  in  it.  But  I  would  not  be  mistaken,  as  under 
valuing  the  many  useful  discoveries  made  from  time 
to  time  in  moral  matters  by  professed  mathematicians. 
Nor  will  any  one  so  mistake  me,  who  does  not  first 
confound  the  genius  and  the  geometer ;  and  then  con 
clude  that  what  was  the  atchievement  of  his  wit,  was 
the  product  of  his  theorems. 

Yet  still  it  must  be   owned,    that  this    discipline 
habituates  the  mind  to  think  closely ;  jmd  may  help 
us  to  a  good  method  of  composition.     In  those  most 
unpromising  ages,  when  informs  of  the  schools  were 
as  tedious  and  intricate,  as  the  matter  they  treated  was 
absurd  or  trifling,  it  hath  had  force  enough  to  break 
through  the  bondage  of  custom,  and  to  clear  away  the 
thorns  that  then  perplexed  and  overgrew  the  paths 
of  learning.     Thomas  Bradwardin,  a  mathematician, 
and  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  in  the  fourteenth  cen 
tury,  in  his  famous  book  De  causa  Dei,  hath  treated 
his  subject,  not  as  it  was  wont  to  be  handled  in  the 
schools,  but  in  the  better  method  of  the  geometers. 
And  in  another  instance,  of  more  importance,  he  hath 
given  the  age  he  lived  in  an  example  to  emancipate 
itself  from  the   slavery  of  fashion ;    I    mean,  in  his 
attempt  (as  by  his  freedom  with  the  fathers  it  seems 
to  be)  of  reducing  tneir  extravagant  authority  to  more 
reasonable  bounds.     But  yet,  so  true  is  the  foregoing 
observation,  that  though  mathematics,  in  good  hands, 
could  do  this,  it  could  do  no  more  :  all  the  opening 
it  gave  to  truth  could  not  secure  Bradwardin  from  the 
dishonour  of  becoming  advocate  for  the  most  absurd 
opinion  that  ever  was,  the  Anti-Pelagian  doctrine  of 

St.  Austin; 


TO    JULIAN.  xvii 

St.  Austin ;  in  which  the  good  archbishop  was  so 
much  in  earnest,  that  he  calls  the  defence  of  it,  the 
cause  of  God. 

To  return.  Such  was  the  state  and  condition  of  the 
human  understanding  in  the  ancient  world,  rather  a 
mechanical  than  a  moral  or  intellectual  cultivation  of 
reason,  when  CHRISTIANITY  arose ;  and  on  such 
principles  as  were  best  fitted  to  correct  those  errors 
and  prejudices,  which  had  so  long  and  so  fatally 
retarded  the  progress  of  truth.  It  would  require  a 
just  volume  to  treat  this  matter  as  it  deserves.  The 
nature  of  my  work  will  not  permit  me  to  do  it.  I 
shall  only  give  a  single  instance,  but  an  instance  of 
importance,  namely,  the  use  of  those  principles  in 
discovering  the  true  end  of  man ;  and  in  directing 
him  to  the  right  mean  of  attaining  it. 

The  knowledge  of  the  ONE  GOD,  as  the  moral  and 
immediate  Governor  of  the  Universe,  directly  leads  us 
to  the  Supreme  Good;  and  the  doctrine  of  FAITH  in 
Him,  directly  inspiring  the  love  of  truth,  enables  us 
to  procure  it. 

In  Paganism,  the  end  was  totally  obscured,  by  its 
having  alway  kept  the  true  God,  the  supreme  good, 
out  of  sight,  which  therefore  must  be  needs  sought  in 
vain  ;  and  the  true  mean  entirely  lost,  by  the  introduc 
tion  of  a  number  of  false  ones. 

These  were  amongst  the  great  principles  revealed  by 
heaven  for  the  advancement  of  moral  knowledge :  and 
in  time  they  had  their  effect :  though  indeed  some 
what  with  the  latest.  For  it  is  not  to  be  dissembled, 
that  here,  as  in  most  other  cases  in  the  moral  world, 
the  perversity  of  man  soon  ran  counter  to  God's  good 
Providence;  which  had  so  admirably  fitted  and  dis 
posed  things  for  a  general  reform. 

I  have  said  ihz  fathers  were,  at  least,  equal,  if  not, 
VOJL.  VIII.  C  superior, 


xviii  INTRODUCTION 

superior,  to  those  Gentile  writers,  their  contempo 
raries,  whom  we  most  affect  to  admire  :  I  shall  now 
explain  the  unhappy  causes  (in  which  Religion  and 
Reason  suffered  equally,  as  they  always  will  surfer 
together)  why  the  fathers  did  not,  in  the  exactness 
of  their  logic,  and  in  the  purity  of  their  ethics,  infinitely 
surpass  them. 

The  first  preachers  of  the  Gospel  were  the  inspired 
messengers  of  the  WORD.  They  committed  its  dic 
tates  to  writing ;  and  with  that  purity  and  splendor  in 
which  they  drew  them  from  the  fountain  of  truth. 

Their  immediate  followers,  whom  we  are  wont  to  call 
the  apostolic  fathers,  received  at  their  hands  the  doc 
trine  of  life,  in  all  the  simplicity  of  understanding  as  well 
as  heart.  It  cannot  be  said  that  their  writings  do  much 
honour  to  the  rational  sublimity  of  our  holy  religion : 
but  then  they  have  not  hurt  or  violated  the  integrity 
of  sacred  truth.  I or  false  philosophy  had  not  yet  made 
havock  of  the  faith.  If,  in  their  writings,  we  see  but 
little  of  that  manly  elegance  of  reason,  which  makes 
the  writings  of  their  inspired  predecessors  so  truly  ad 
mirable  ;  and  is  so  striking  a  proof  of  the  reality  of  that 
inspiration :  yet  still  there  is  as  little  of  those  adulterate 
and  polluted  ornaments,  which  their  successors  brought 
from  the  brothels  of  Pagan  philosophy,  to  stain  the 
sanctity  of  religion.  And  let  me  add,  that  though  the 
early  prospect  of  things  may  not  be,  in  all  respects, 
what  we  could  wish  it ;  yet  there  is  one  circumstance, 
which  does  great  credit  to  our  holy  faith  :  It  is  this, 
that  as  the  integrity  and  dignity  of  its  simple  and  per 
fect  nature  refused  all  fellowship  with  the  adulterate 
arts  of  Grecian  learning ;  so  the  admirable  display  of 
divine  wisdom  in  disposing  the  parts,  and  conducting 
the  course  of  the  grand  system  of  redemption,  was 
not  to  be  tolerably  apprehended  but  by  an  improved 

and 


T  o   J  U  L  I  A  N. 

and  well-disciplined  understanding.  Both  these  quali 
ties  suited  the  nobility  of  its  original.  It  could  bear 
no  communion  with  error  \  and  was  as  little  fitted  to 
consort  with  Ignorance. 

The  men  of  science  were  not  the  first  who  attended 
to  the  call  of  the  Gospel.  It  was  not  to  be  expected 
they  should  be  the  first.  Their  station  presented  many 
prejudices  against  it.  It  was  taught  by  simple  unlettered 
men,  whose  condition  they  held  in  contempt ;  and  it 
required  that  they,  who  had  been  till  now  the  teachers 
of  mankind,  should  become  learners.  The  doctrines 
of  the  Gospel  had  indeed  this  to  recommend  them, 
that  they  were  rational^  but  the  philosophers  were 
already  no  strangers  to  those  principles  of  natural 
religion  which  Christianity  adopted,  such  as  the  unity 
of  the  Godhead,  his  moral  government,  and  the  essen 
tial  difference  between  good  and  eviL  The  attesta 
tions  to  its  truth  were  wonderful;  but  these,  their 
principles  of  false  philosophy  enabled  them  to  evade  : 
so  that  their  passions  and  prejudices,  for  some  time, 
supported  them  in  holding  out  against  all  the  con 
viction  of  gospel- evidence. 

But  it  was  not  thus  with  plainer  men.  They  sub 
mitted  to  its  force  with  less  reluctance.  Philosophy 
had  secreted  from  the  prophane  vulgar  the  high  truths 
of  natural  law,  which  is  taught  to  the  initiated  con 
cerning  the  one  true  God  and  his  worship.  When  the 
Gospel  openly  proclaimed  these  truths,  with  others  of 
the  like  repose  and  comfort  to  the  human  mind,  these 
propkane  vulgar  eagerly  embraced  it.  And  as  Gre 
cian  wisdom  could  not  keep  them  from  believing  what 
was  thus  revealed  ;  so  neither  did  that  wisdom,  falsely 
so  called,  tempt  them  to  viciate  it,  after  they  had  em 
braced  it.  They  were  apt,  indeed,  to  run  into  the 
opposite  extreme,  and,  reflecting  of  how  little  use  phi- 

c  £  losophy 


xx  INTRODUCTION 

losophy  had  ever  been  to  the  body  of  mankind,  and 
how  violently  it  now  opposed  the  new  religion,  which 
had  the  body  of  mankind  for  its  object,  they  became 
much  disposed  to  avoid  or  neglect  all  prophane  litera 
ture,  without  distinction.  They  saw,  in  the  power  of 
miracles,  a  more  efficacious  way  of  propagating  the 
faith  :  and  they  thought  they  saw,  in  St.  Paul's  censure 
of  the  Grecian  wisdom,  the  condemnation  of  all  hu 
man  literature,  in  general.  St.  Paul  had  himself  ab 
stained  from  their  meretricious  eloquence,  and  had 
cautioned  posterity  against  their  magical  philosophy. 
The  first,  lest  it  should  occasion  a  suspicion  that 
the  faith  had  made  its  way  rather  by  the  arts  of 
human  speech,  than  by  the  power  of  the  spirit :  The 
latter,  because  he  saw  it  was  fatally  framed  to  infect 
religion ;  and  had  some  experience,  and  more  divine 
foreknowledge,  that  it  would  speedily  do  so. 

Indeed  the  time  was  at  hand.  For  the  convictive 
evidence  and  rapid  progress  of  the  Gospel  had  so 
shaken  and  disconcerted  learned  pride,  that  the  next 
age  saw  a  torrent  of  believers  pour  into  the  church, 
from  the  schools  of  their  rhetors,  the  colleges  of  their 
philosophers,  and  the  cloisters  of  their  priests.  The 
sincerity  of  these  illustrious  converts  in  embracing  a 
religion  which  did  not  hold  out,  so  much  as  in  distant 
prospect,  any  advantages  of  the  temporal  kind,  cannot 
be  fairly  brought  in  question.  Their  discretion,  their 
prudence,  were  the  things  most  wanted.  For  that 
passion  of  new  converts,  zeal,  which  is  then  least 
under  the  direction  of  knowledge  when  zeal  most  needs 
it,  hindered  them  from  making  their  advantages  of  the 
principles  of  revelation ;  so  admirably  fitted,  as  we 
have  shewn,  to  improve  human  nature  on  that  side 
where  its  perfection  lies,  I  mean,  in  the  high  attain 
ments  of  moral  science.  For,  instead  of  reasoning 

from 


TO    JULIAN.  xxi 

from  truths  clearly  revealed,  and  so,  from  things 
known,  to  advance,  by  due  degrees,  in  the  method  of 
the  mathematicians,  to  the  discovery  of  truths  unknown, 
They  travested  obscure  uncertainties,  nay,  manifest 
errors,  into  truth  ;  and  sought  in  philosophy  and  logic, 
analogies  and  quibbles  to  support  them. 

Their  two  great  objects,  as  became  them,  were  to 
increase  the  number  of  believers  :  and  to  defend  the 
faith  against  infidels  and  heretics. 

Amongst  the  means  they  employed  for  the  speedy 
conversion  of  the  world,  one  was  to  bring  Christianity 
as  near  to  the  genius  of  the  Gentile  religion,  and  of  the 
Greek  philosophy,  as  could  be  done  without  giving 
offence  to  themselves  or  their  brethren.  They  thought 
It  but  prudent  to  avail  themselves  of  the  prejudices  of 
Paganism  ;  and  perhaps  they  themselves  were  not  tree 
from  all  remains  of  those  prejudices.  The  Jewish  law, 
ill  understood,  satisfied  them  in  the  propriety  of  these 
means.  They  saw  there,  compliances  made  by  God 
himself  to  the  prejudices  and  superstitions  of  the  times. 
But  this  was  all  they  saw :  They  did  not  reflect  that 
a  local  worship,  instituted  for  peculiar  and  temporary 
ends,  was  to  be  conducted  on  maxims  different  from 
what  was  required  in  an  universal  religion,  erected  on 
the  general  principles  of  spirit  and  truth.  They  did  not 
reflect  that  one  mean  was  to  be  pursued  when  the  end 
was  to  keep  a  chosen  family  from  the  contagion  of 
idol  worship;  and  another  when  an  idolatrous  world 
was  to  be  invited  to  the  profession  of  SAVING  FAITH. 

It  is  very  observable,  that,  while  t\\Qfathers  were 
thus  dishonouring  Christianity  by  giving  it  the  fashion 
able  air  of  Paganism,  the  philosophers,  on  their  side, 
were  as  busy  in  reforming  and  purifying  their  systems 
on  the  model  of  the  great  truths  of  Revelation*. 

*  Sec  the  Divine  Legation. 

c  3  And, 


.xxii  INTRODUCTION 

And,  what  is  yet  more  strange,  this  mutual  approach 
still  kept  them  at  an  irreconciled  distance.  For  the 
advances  on  both  sides  were  made  for  no  other  end 
than  that  each  might  the  better  keep  their  own  ground  ; 
the  philosophers,  by  conciliating  the  reason  ;  the  fa 
thers,  by  indulging  the  passions ;  into  which  various 
conduct  they  were  alike  betrayed  by  the  condition  of 
our  common  nature,  unable  either  to  bear  pure  and 
simple  truth,  or  gross  and  undisguised  error. 

There  were  two  things  in  Paganism,  which,  as  they 
excited  and  kept  up  that  amusing  exercise  of  the 
mind,  admiration,  did,  more  strongly  than  any  else, 
hold  the  people  attached  to  idolatry ;  and  these  were 

MYSTERIOUS  RITES  and  HIDDEN  DOCTRINES. 

One  would  have  thought  it  hard  to  find  an  equiva 
lent  for  these  in  so  simple  and  perfect  a  religion  as  the 
Christian ;  yet  the  figurative  expressions  used  in  the 
institution  of  the  Lord's  supper,  and  the  frequent 
mention  of  mysteries  throughout  the  New  Testament 
(though  it  be  of  mysteries  which  the  genius  of  the 
gospel  had  revealed  and  explained,  not  of  mysteries 
which  it  invented  and  kept  hidden),  gave  occasion  to 
accommodators  to  ancient  prejudices  to  speak  of  the 
last  supper  as  a  mysterious  rite,  to  which  they  ven 
tured  to  apply  all  the  terms  in  use  at  the  celebration 
of  the  Pagan  mysteries  ;  and  to  speak  of  REDEMPTION 
as  of  one  of  those  hidden  doctrines,  which  the  fanatic 
Platonists  of  that  time  boasted  they  had  in  trust,  for 
the  purification  and  advancement  of  human  nature. 

This  will  account  for  a  circumstance  that  never 
fails  of  giving  scandal  to  the  readers  of  Church- 
history  :  which  is,  that  the  principles  and  doctrines  of 
the  ancient  Heretics  were  infinitely  more  shocking  and 
absurd  than  those  of  any  modern  sectaries.  The  reason 
(we  see)  is,  that  the  ancient  Heretics  formed  theif 

tenets 


TO    JULIAN.  xxiii 

tenets  on  the  principles  of  Pagan  philosophy  ;  while 
the  modern  sectaries  form  theirs  on  the  books  of 
sacred  Scripture.  And  though  the  one  was  on  philo 
sophy  reformed  and  purified,  .and  the  other  is  on  the 
Bible  perverted  and  misunderstood,  yet  the  difference 
in  favour  of  the  latter  becomes  immense. 

This  mysterious  genius  of  Paganism,  together  with 
its  popular  absurdities,  naturally  produced  a  method 
of  teaching,  which  always  pleases  the  imagination  in 
proportion  as  it  disgusts  the  judgment,  that  is  to  say, 
the  use  of  allegory.  A  practice,  excellently  fitted  to 
cover  the  early  follies  of  vulgar  Gentilism,  and  to 
ornament  the  late  knaveries  of  the  philosophic ;  but 
very  abhorrent  of  the  genius  of  Christianity,  where 
every  doctrine  was  rational,  and  therefore  every  rite 
should  have  been  plain  and  open.  Yet  as  allegory  was 
become  the  general  vehicle  of  instruction,  and  that 
which  particularly  distinguished  the  school  of  Plato ; 
the  FATHERS,  who  leaned  most  towards  that  sect, 
thought  fit  to  go  into  that  fashionable  mode.  They 
allegorized  every  thing ;  and  their  success  was  such  as 
might  be  expected  from  so  absurd  an  accommodation. 
Here  again  they  were  misled  in  their  ignorance  of  the 
nature  of  the  Jewish  law :  a  law  full  of  allegories,  and 
figurative  representations.  And  with  great  propriety 
so,  as  that  religion  was  dependent  on,  and  preparatory 
to  the  Gospel:  which,  being  its  end  and  completion, 
required  to  have  some  shadow  of  itself  delineated  in  the 
steps  which  led  to  it.  But  this,  which  shews  the  use 
of  allegories  to  be  reasonable  in  the  Old  Testament, 
shews  the  folly  of  expecting  them  in  the  New.  For 
when  the  substance  was  advanced,  and  placed  in  full 
light,  the  shadow  was  of  course  to  be  cast  behind. 
Yet,  by  the  most  unaccountable  perversity,  the  very 
reason  which  the  apostle  gives  for  the  necessity  of 

c  4  interpreting 


xxiv  INTRODUCTION 

interpreting  the  law  figuratively,  that  the  letter  killet/t, 
tut  the  spirit  gvveth  life,  was  made  the  authority  for 
using  the  Gospel  in  the  same  manner. 

We  have  said,  that  the  school  to  which  the  FATHERS 
chiefly  inclined,  was  the  Academy.  There  is  a  passage 
in  St.  Austin,  which  shews  to  what  excess  the  authority 
of  Plato  was  carried.  In  his  Confessions,  he  returns 
thanks  to  God  for  having  made  the  books  of  Plato 
an  instrument  of  redeeming  him  from  the  errors  of 
Manicheism.  His  partialities  for  that  philosopher 
must  have  strangely  blinded  him ;  for,  humanly  speak 
ing,  nothing  could  have  more  contributed  to  keep  him 
a  Manichean  than  the  doctrines  of  Plato,  who  held 
two  coeternal  principles,  Go4  and  matter,  and  that  the 
latter  was  the  cause  of  evil.  This  fondness  for  the 
academy  arose  partly  from  its  being  the  philosophy  in 
vogue,  and  partly  because  (in  consequence  of  that) 
several  of  the  fathers  came  from  that  school  into  the 
church;  but  chiefly  because  they  had  entertained 
greater  hopes  of  bringing  over  the  Platonists  to  the 
faith,  which,  as  Plato  was  in  the  highest  credit,  would 
be  deemed  a  victory  over  philosophy  in  general.  What 
they  seemed  to  ground  their  hopes  upon  was  the  scep 
tical  disposition  of  the  academy  as  in  its  first  institution. 
The  earlier  Platonists  professed  to  seek  truth;  and 
were  not  ashamed  to  own  they  could  not  find  it.  It 
was  therefore  imagined  they  would  gladly  receive  it,  in 
doctrines  so  rationally  deduced,  and  so  clearly  revealed. 
But  in  this  they  were  deceived  :  for  uncertainty  is  not 
the  state  and  condition  of  the  sceptic's  knowledge,  but 
the  principle  and  the  genius  of  it,  and  it  was  departing 
from  the  fundamental  laws  of  their  profession  to 
acknowledge  any  thing  certain.  As  for  the  enthusiastic 
part  of  this  sect,  w^hich  was  now  daily  getting  ground, 
the  magic  to  which  they  were  so  madly  given,  kept  them 

confined 


TO  JULIAN.  xxv 

confined  within  its  circle.  This,  and  some  manifest 
mischiefs,  which  even  the  warmest  of  the  fathers  could 
not  but  perceive,  made  them  ever  and  anon,  when  in  ill 
humour  with  a  heretic,  to  execrate  the  schools  of  Plato, 
Aristotle,  Pythagoras,  &c.  and  denounce  each  of 
them,  in  their  turns,  to  be  the  great  nurseries  of  error : 
as  Tertulliau  did  of  the  chief  of  them,  who  calls  Plato 
the  common  cook  and  seasoner  of  heresy*.  But,  falsely 
supposing  that  the  evil  arose  from  this  or  that  parti 
cular  sect,  when  it  had  its  root  in  the  constitution  of 
them  all,  they  went  on  exclaiming  against  their  parti 
cular  doctrines,  and  theologizing  and  reasoning  on 
their  general  principles.  We  say  the  fathers  would 
sometimes  call  the  Greek  philosophy  the  nursery  of 
heresy.  Nothing  is  more  true.  And  yet  all  the  differ 
ence  between  the  orthodox  and  the  heretics,  as  far  as  con 
cerned  their  application  of  philosophy  to  religion,  was 
only  from  less  to  more.  The  orthodox  employed  it  to 
explain  articles  of  faith;  and  the  heretics  to  invent  them. 

Thus  much  for  a  taste  of  the  didactic  theology  of  the 
fathers.  Their  polemic  savoured  as  strongly  of  the 
same  impure  mixture.  For,  the  form  of  argument, 
and  force  of  confutation,  came  from  the  same  shops : 
from  the  teaching  rhetors,  they  learnt  the  art  of  rea 
soning  by  similitudes  and  analogies-,  from  the  talking 
orators,  that  capital  argument,  called,  ad  hominem; 
and  from  the  wrangling  philosophers  of  the  academy, 
the  address  of  using  any  sort  of  principles,  to  support 
their  own  opinions,  or  confute  their  adversaries.  The 
three  lasting  bars  to  the  discovery  and  advancement 
of  truth. 

But  matters  still  grew  from  bad  to  worse ;  till 
one  black  cloud  of  blind  credulity  had  over-spread  the 
Western  world:  this  soon  brought  on  a  spiritual 

*  Omnium  Hsereticorum  condimentarium. 

dominion, 


xxvi  INTRODUCTION 

dominion,  which  took  advantage  of  the  confusions 
occasioned  by  the  continued  inroads  of  fierce  barba 
rians,  to  strike  its  roots  deep  and  wide  into  the  fat  and 
lumpish  soil  of  Gothic  ignorance.  For  as  a  temporal 
tyranny  supports  itself  by  corrupt  manners,  so  a  ^*- 
wVwtf/ established  it's  usurpation  by  corrupt  doctrines. 
And,  as  in  large  empires  subject  to  the  temporal,  the 
luxury  of  vice  runs  into  delicacies;  so,  in  those  subject 
to  the  spiritual,  the  absurdity  of  doctrines  hides  itself 
in  subtilties.  Hence  the  original  of  the  SCHOOLMEN'S 
art ;  as  we  find  it  completed  in  the  PERIPATETIC  code 
of  sums  and  sentences.  And  this  was  in  the  order  of 
things :  that  what  the  fanatic  visions  of  the  platonic 
philosophy  had  brought  into  the  faith,  the  frigid  sub- 
tilties  of  the  Aristotelian  should  support  *.  And  it  is 
observable,  that  the  use  the  schoolmen  made  of  their 
disputatious  genius,  was  just  the  same  the  sophists  had 
made  before  them.  For  triumphant  dulness  commonly 
grows  wanton  in  the  exercise  of  imputed  witf.  And 
the  Sic  and  Non  of  Peter  Abelard  was  now  as  famous 
as  heretofore  the  Tj^oGaAA/k  of  Gorgias. 

At  length  truth  shot  its  ray  into  this  chaos  of  disordered 
reason  :  but  it  came  not  directly  from  it's  source ;  but 

*  It  is  remarkable,  that  the  Mahometan  Arabs,  by  the  assist 
ance  of  the  same  philosophy,  invented  the  same  kind  of  scholastic 
theology :  and,  as  with  superior  refinement,  in  proportion  to  the 
subtiler  wits  of  that  people ;  so,  with  better  judgment :  for  that 
which  obscures  reason,  will  always  be  a  cover  for  absurdity. 

fit  was  held  disgraceful  when  the  subtile  Doctor  was  so  pressed 
by  his  opponent  as  to  have  no  other  way  of  extricating  himself 
than  by  quoting  Scripture  (an  expedient,  in  his  ideas,  like,  that  of 
introducing  the  God  in  the  Machine^  which  bungling  poets  were 
wont  to  have  recourse  to).  M.  Menage  tells  us  he  found  the 
following  entry  in  the  register  of  the  faculty  at  Paris — "  Solida 
*'  die  sexta  Julii  ab  Aurora  ad  vesperam  fuit  disputatum,  et 
"  quidem  tarn  SUBTILITER,  ut  ncwrbum  gmdem  de  tota  scrip" 
"  twa  fuerit  allegatwn" 

from 


TO  JULIAN.  xxvii 

from  the  ferment  of  such  passions  as  error  and  corrup 
tion  are  apt  to  raise  amongst  those  who  govern  in, 
and  benefit  by,  that  state  of  confusion.  For  when  a 
reform  happens  to  arise  from  within,  it  cannot  be 
supposed  to  iiave  its  birth  in  a  love  of  truth ;  hardly, 
in  the  knowledge  of  it.  Generally,  some  corrupt  pas 
sion  gratifies  itself  by  decrying  the  grosser  errors,  sup 
ported  by,  and  supporting,  those  it  hates.  The 
machine  thus  set  a-going,  truth  hath  fair  play  :  she 
is  now  in  turn  to  procure  friends,  and  to  attach  them 
to  her  service.  This  was  the  case  in  the  revolution 
we  are  about  to  speak  of ;  and  is  the  case  of  religious 
reformations  in  general.  For  if,  in  the  state  of  such 
established  error,  Providence  was  to  wait  till  a  love  of 
truth  had  set  men  upon  shaking  off  their  bondage,  its 
dispensations  could  never  provide  that  timely  aid, 
which  we  now  find  they  always  do  to  distressed 
humanity.  For  when  the  corruption  hath  spread  so 
wide,  as  to  make  truth,  if  by  chance  she  could  be 
found,  an  indifferent  object;  what  is  there  left,  to 
enable  men  to  break  their  fetters,  but  the  clashing 
interests  of  the  corruption  itself?  And  it  is  knowing 
as  little  of  the*  religious,  as  of  the  moral  course  of 
God's  providence,  to  upbraid  those,  who  have  profited 
of  this  blessing,  with  the  baseness  of  the  instruments 
that  procured  it  *. 

However,  the  love  of  truth  came  afterwards  in  aid 
of  those,  whom  St.  Paul  himself  did  not  think  fit  to 
discourage,  such  as  preach  Christ  even  of  envy  and 
strife,  to  carry  on  the  work  of  reformation.  For 

*  tl  Si  on  veut  reduire  les  causes  des  progres  de  la  rcforme  a 
"  des  principes  simples,  on  verra,  qu'en  Allemagne  ce  fut 
"  I'Ouvrage  de  1'Interet,  en  Angleterre  celui  de  1'Amour  ;  et  en 
'  France  celui  de  la  Nouveaute,  ou  peut-etre  d'une  Chanson." 
Voiez,  Memoirs  pour  servir  u  I'Histoire  de  Brand€bourg  de  main 
if.  Maitre,  p.  37. 

though 


xxviii  INTRODUCTION 

though  tine  grossness  of  the  corruptions  did  not  straight 
way  make  them  suspected;  yet,  being  tyrannically  im 
posed,  they  soon  became  hated;  and  that  hatred 
brought  on  the  enquiry ;  which  never  ceased  but  with 
their  detection.  And  then,  those,  whose  honesty  and 
courage  emboldened  them  to  make  a  secession  from 
an  Anti-Christian  Church,  found  no  way  of  standing 
in  their  new-recovered  liberty,  but  by  supplying  their 
want  of  power  with  a  superior  share  of  knowledge. 

To  this  every  thing  contributed.  They  were  led, 
even  by  the  spirit  of  opposition,  to  the  fountain  of 
truth,  the  Scriptures ;  from  which  they  had  been  so 
long  and  violently  excluded.  And  the  Scriptures,  as 
we  observed,  had,  amongst  their  other  advantages,  this 
peculiar  virtue,  to  direct  and  enlarge  the  mind;  by 
providing  it  with  such  objects  as  were  best  suited  for 
its  contemplation ;  and  presenting  them  in  such  lights 
as  most  readily  promoted  its  improvement  by  them. 
Such  too  was  the  gracious  disposition  of  Heaven,  that, 
at  the  very  time  these  servants  of  truth  were  breaking 
open  the  recovered  treasury  of  holy  writ,  the  largest 
source  of  human  learning  was  ready  to  pour  in  upon 
them.  For  a  powerful  nation  of  fierce  enthusiasts,  the 
enemies  of  the  Christian  name,  had  just  driven  Grecian 
literature  from  its  natives  eats,  and  forced  it  to  take 
refuge  in  the  North  West  of  Europe. 

How  admirable  are  the  ways  of  Providence !  and 
how  illustrious  was  this  dispensation !  It  directed  the 
independent,  the  various,  and  the  contrary  revolu 
tions  of  these  times,  to  rectify  the  mischiefs  occasioned 
by  the  past :  whereby  that  very  learning,  which,  in  the 
first  ages,  had  been  perverted  to  corrupt  Christianity, 
was  now  employed  to  purify  and  restore  it :  that  very 
philosophy,  which  had  been  adopted  to  invent  and 
explain  articles  of  faith,  was  now  studied  only  to  in 
struct 


TO  J  tl  L I  AN.  xxix 

struct  us  in  the  history  of  the  human  mind,  and  to 
assist  us  in  developing  its  faculties,  and  regulating  its 
operations  :  and  those  very  systems  which  had  sup 
ported  the  whole  body  of  school  divinity,  now  afforded 
the  principles  proper  to  overturn  it. 

But  in  the  course  of  this  reform,  it  was  not  enough 
that  the  bad  logic,  on  which  the  school-determina 
tions  rested,  should  be  reduced  to  its  just  value.  The 
service  of  truth  required  the  invention  of  a  better.  A 
better  was  invented  :  and  the  superiority  that  followed 
from  its  use  was  immediately  felt :  So  that  our  adver 
saries  were  soon  reduced  to  avail  themselves  of  the 
same  advantages.  Thus  the  true  science  of  humanity 
opened  and  enlarged  itself:  It  spread  and  penetrated 
through  every  quarter ;  till  it  arrived  at  that  distin 
guished  height  in  which  we  place  the  true  glory  of 
these  later  ages. 

The  advantage  of  the  modern  over  ancient  times, 
in  the  successful  pursuit  of  moral  science,  is  now 
generally  acknowledged.  And  the  impartial  reader, 
who  hath  attended  to  these  brief  reflections,  will,  we 
presume,  find  no  other  cause,  to  which  it  can  be  so 
reasonably  ascribed,  as  to  the  genius  and  the  con 
stitution  of  the  Christian  religion;  whose  doctrines 
reveal  the  great  prinicples  of  moral  truth ;  and  whose 
discipline  establishes  a  ministry  consecrated  to  its  sup 
port  and  service. 

It  is  true,  indeed,  the  concurrence  of  several  cross 
accidents  had  for  many  ages  deprived  the  world  of 
these  advantages:  They  had  defeated  the  natural 
virtue  and  efficacy  of  the  doctrines ;  and  rendered  the 
discipline  vain  and  useless.  For  these  two  parts  of  the 
Christian  system  cannot  act  but  in  conjunction :  se 
parate  them,  and  its  doctrines  will  abound  in  enthu" 
)  and  its  discipline,  in  superstitions.  But  now, 

since 


xxx  INTRODUCTION 

since  the  cold  and  heavy  incumbrance  of  human  in 
ventions  hath  been  removed  out  of  the  Lord's  vi/ie- 
yard<  the  ministers  of  religion  have  been  enabled  to 
produce  that  fruit  which,  from  the  beginning,  they 
were  enabled  to  cultivate  and  mature.  So  that  greater 
improvements  were  made,  during  the  last  two  hun 
dred  years,  in  the  science  of  humanity,  than  in  all  the 
preceding  ages  put  together. 

Nor  let  any  one,  from  what  he  may  have  seen  not 
very  conformable  to  these  ideas,  suspect  the  truth  of 
this  representation.  It  was  never  pretended  that  these 
advantages  prevailed  equally  or  constantly  in  all 
places,  to  which  the  influence  of  their  causes  had 
reached.  As  time  would  improve  them  in  some,  so 
it  would  impair  them  in  others.  All  nature  is  in  a 
constant  flux,  and  every  modification  of  it,  however 
circumstanced,  when  considered  locally,  must  have 
its  period  ;  and  such  as  are  most  valuable,  have,  very 
often,  the  quickest.  Of  the  advantages  spoken  of 
above,  THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND  had  made  the  best 
use  :  and  the  system  of  man,  that  is,  of  ethics  and 
theology,  had  received  there  almost  as  many  improve 
ments,  as  the  system  of  nature,  amongst  the  same 
people,  hath  done  since.  It  would  have  received 
more  but  for  the  evil  influence  which  the  corrupt  and 
mistaken  politics  of  those  times  have  had  upon  it. 
For  politics  have  ever  had  great  effects  on  science. 
And  this  is  natural.  What  is  strange  in  the  story  is, 
that  these  studies  gradually  decay  under  an  improved 
Constitution.  Insomuch  that  there  is  now  neither 
force  enough  in  the  public  genius  to  emulate  their 
forefathers ;  nor  sense  enough  to  understand  the  use 
of  their  discoveries.  It  would  be  an  invidious  task 
to  enquire  into  the  causes  of  this  degeneracy.  It 
is  sufficient,  for  our  humiliation,  that  we  feel  the  ef 
fects. 


TO    JULIAN.  xxxi 

fects.  Not  that  we  must  suppose,  there  was  nothing 
to  dishonour  the  happier  times  which  went  before : 
there  were  too  many  :  but  then  the  mischiefs  were 
well  repaired  by  the  abundance  of  the  surrounding 
blessmgs.  This  church,  like  a  fair  and  vigorous  tree, 
once  teemed  with  the  richest  and  noblest  burthen. 
And  though,  together  with  its  best  fruits,  it  pushed 
out  some  hurtful  suckers,  receding  every  way  from 
the  mother  plant ;  crooked  and  mishapen,  if  you  will, 
and  obscuring  and  eclipsing  the  beauty  of  its  stem ; 
yet  still  there  was  something  in  their  height  and  verdure 
which  bespoke  the  generosity  of  the  stock  they  rose 
from.  She  is  now  seen  under  all  the  marks  of  a  total 
decay :  her  top  scorched  and  blasted,  her  chief 
branches  bare  and  barren,  and  nothing  remaining  of 
that  comeliness  which  once  invited  the  whole  continent 
to  her  shade.  The  chief  sign  of  life  she  now  gives  is 
the  exsuding  from  her  sickly  trunk  a  number  of  de 
formed  funguses ;  which  call  themselves  of  her,  because 
they  stick  upon  her  surface,  and  suck  out  the  little 
remains  of  her  sap  and  spirits. 

To  conclude :  my  more  immediate  concern  in  these 
observations  was  to  justify  the  FATHERS  from  the 
injurious  contempt  under  which  they  now  lye.  But, 
in  the  course  of  this  apology,  I  have  endeavoured  to 
serve  a  greater  purpose ;  which  was,  to  vindicate  our 
holy  Religion  from  its  supposed  impotency  and  inca 
pacity  to  direct  and  enlarge  the  reasoning  faculties,  in 
.  the  discovery  and  advancement  of  moral  truth. 

So  far  then  as  to  the  genius  and  literary  talents  of 
the  Fathers  :  their  moral  character  is  a  distinct  ques 
tion  ;  and  would  well  bear,  and  does  deserve  a  full 
examination.  But  I  have  already  gone  beyond  my 
limits.  However,  this  I  may  venture  to  say,  that  the 
men  most  prejudiced  against  them,  though  they  talk, 

will 


xxxii          INTRODUCTION,  &c. 

will  never  be  able  to  prove,  tliat  the  Fathers  had  an 
immoral  intention  to  deceive.  If  there  be  any  learn 
ed  man  who  thinks  otherwise,  I  would  advise  him, 
before  he  attempts  to  prosecute  this  charge  against 
them,  to  weigh  well  the  force  of  the  following  remark, 
though  made  on  somewhat  a  different  occasion. 
"  Whenever"  (says  the  fine  author  of  the  Spirit  of 
Laws)  "  one  observes,  in  any  age  or  government, 
"  the  several  bodies  in  a  community  intent  on  aug- 
"  menting  their  own  authority,  and  vigilant  to  procure 
<c  certain  advantages  to  themselves  exclusive  of  each 
<c  other's  pretensions,  we  should  run  a  very  great 
"  chance  of  being  deceived  if  we  regarded  these  at- 
"  tempts  as  a  certain  mark  of  their  corruptions.  By 
"  an  unhappiness  inseparable  from  the  condition  of 
"  humanity,  moderation  is  a  rare  virtue  in  men  of 
"  superior  talents.  And  as  it  is  always  more  easy  to 
"  push  on  force  in  the  direction  in  which  it  moves, 
"  than  to  stop  or  divert  its  moment ;  perhaps,  in  the 
"  class  of  superior  geniuses,  you  will  sooner  find  men 
"  extremely  virtuous,  than  extremely  prudent*." 

*  Lorsque  dans  un  siccle,  ou  dans  un  gouvernement,  on  voit 
les  divers  corps  de  1'etat  chercher  a  augmenter  leur  autontc,  & 
i  prendre  les  uns  sur  les  autres  de  certains  avantages,  on  se 
tromperoit  souvent,  si  Ton  regardoit  leurs  entreprises,  commc 
une  marque  certaine  de  leur  corruption  Par  un  malheur  attache 
a  la  condition  humaine,  les  Grands-hommes  moderes  sont  rares  ; 
&  comme  ilest  toujoursplus  aise  de  suivre  sa  force  que  del'arreter, 
puet-etre  dans  la  classe  des  gens  superieurs,  est-il  plus  facile,  de 
trouverdesgens  extreraement  vertueux,  que  les  hommes  extreme- 
rnent  wges.  L'Eiprit  des  Loix,  V.  II,  p.  334.  8vo  edit. 


ADIS- 


A 

DISCOURSE 

ON   THE    ATTEMPT   OF   THE    EMPEROR 

JULIAN 

TO    REBUILD    THE 

TEMPLE   OF    JERUSALEM. 


BOOK  I. 

IN  reflecting  on  the  state  of  this  new  controversy, 
concerning  MIRACLES,  two  things  seemed  to  be 
wanting,  though  very  useful  to  oppose  to  the  insinua 
tions  of  licentious  readers,  who  are  commonly  more 
forward  to  come  to  a  conclusion  than  the  disputants 
themselves  ;  the  one  was,  to  shew  that  all  the  miracles 
recorded  in  church-history  are  not  forgeries  or  delu 
sions  :  The  other,  that  the  evidence  of  most  of  them 
doth  not  stand  on  the  same  foot  of  credit  with  the 
miracles  recorded  in  Gospel- history.  For  most  theo 
logical  debates  amongst  churchmen,  notwithstanding 
the  service  they  do  to  truth,  occasion  this  sensible 
mischief  to  the  people,  that  the  enemies  of  religion 
spread  abroad  their  o-^n  consequences  from  them,  as 
the  consequences  of  the  doctrines  advanced,  how  con 
trary  soever  to  the  express  reasonings  and  declarations 
of  the  parties  concerned. 

To  obviate  therefore  the  ABUSES  arising  from  the 

management  of  the  present  question,  I  have  taken 

VOL.  VIII.  D  upon 


34       OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  I. 

upon  me  to  defend  A  MIRACLE  OF  THE  FOURTH 
CENTURY  ;  and  to  enquire  into  the  nature  of  that 
evidence ,  which  will  demand  the  assent  of  every  rea 
sonable  man  to  a  miraculous  fact. 

The  first  part  of  this  plan  is  prosecuted  in  the  fol 
lowing  sheets:  The  second  will  afford  a  subject  for 
another  discourse. 

My  chief  purpose  here  is  to  prove  the  miraculous 
interposition  of  Providence,  in  defeating  the  attempt 
of  JULIAN  to  rebuild  the  TEMPLE  OF  JERUSALEM. 

As  my  design  in  writing  is  in  behalf  of  our  common 
Christianity,  and  not  to  support  or  to  discredit  the 
particular  doctrines  of  this  or  that  church  or  age ;  I 
have  taken  for  my  subject  a  miracle  worked  by  the 
immediate  hand  of  God,  and  not  through  the  agency 
of  his  servants. 

So  that,  whether  the  power  of  miracles  as  exercised 
by  the  apostles,  and  their  first  followers,  ceased  with 
them,  or  was  conveyed  to  their  successors  of  the 
next  age,  is  a  question  that  doth  not  at  all  affect  the 
present  subject :  for,  God's  shortening  the  hands  of 
his  servants  doth  not  imply  that  he  shortened  his  own. 


CHAP.  I. 

WHEN  God,  in  his  mercy,  had  decreed  to  restore 
mankind  to  the  state  of  immortality  forfeited  by 
Adam,  he  saw  fit,  in  order  to  preserve  the  memory  of 
himself  amidst  a  world  running  headlong  into  idolatry, 
to  select  a  single  family,  which,  advanced  into  a 
nation,  might,  in  the  interim,  become  the  repository 
of  his  holy  name.  To  this  purpose  he  took  the  seed 
of  Abraham,  in  reward  of  the  virtues  of  their  fore 
fathers, 


Chap.  L]    REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.  35 

fathers,  and,  in  due  time,  brought  them,  by  leaders 
chosen  from  amongst  themselves,  to  the  land  he  had 
appointed  for  them. 

In  compliance  with  the  religious  notions  of  those 
times,  he  condescended,  when  he  communicated  him 
self  as  the  Maker  and  Governor  of  the  Universe,  to 
adopt  them  for  his  peculiar  people,  under  the  idea  of 
their  tutelar  Deity,  or  the  God  of  Abraham,  Isaac, 
and  Jacob.  And,  the  better  to  secure  the  great  end 
of  their  separation,  assumed  likewise  the  title  and  office 
of  their  King^  or  Civil  Governor. 

Hence  their  Religion  came  under  the  idea  of  a 
Law ;  and  was  so  considered  and  denominated.  And 
their  Law  was,  in  the  strictest  sense,  Religion,  as 
having  all  the  sanctions  of  a  divine  command. 

In  a  word,  those  two  great  rules  of  human  conduct, 
which  are,  elsewhere,  kept  so  distinct  by  their  different 
originals,  and  different  administrations,  were,  here,  by 
the  sameness  in  both,  specifically  lost  in  a  perfect  in 
corporation.  And  the  whole  oeconomy  (as  every  thing 
in  this  dispensation  was  relative  to  the  Jews  as  a 
body)  went  under  the  common  name  of  LAW. 

From  this  account  of  the  Jewish  constitution,  it 
follows,  That  Religion,  which,  elsewhere,  hath  only 
particulars  for  its  subjects,  had,  Here,  the  nation  or 
community:  And  what,  elsewhere,  as  far  as  concerns 
the  divine  origin  of  religion,  is  only  a  private  matter, 
was,  Here,  a  public:  For  the  Deity  being  both  their 
tutelary  God  and  civil  Governor,  the  proper  object  of 
his  care,  in  each  capacity,  was  the  collective  body  : 
and,  whether  we  consider  the  observance  due  to  him 

under  the  idea  of  Law  or  Religion,  it  was  still  the 

i/-j 

body  which  was  the  proper  subject  of  it.  Not  but 
that  religion  had  there  a.  private  part,  or  particulars 
for  its  subject :  But  then  it  was  that  religion  we  call 

D  2  natural] 


36       OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO      [Rook  L 

natural ;  founded  in  what  reason  discovers  of  the  re 
lation  between  the  Creator  and  the  creature ;  an  aid, 
which  revelation  is  so  far  from  rejecting,  that  we  find 
it  constitutes  the  ground  of  every  extraordinary  dispen 
sation  vouchsafed  by  God  to  mankind.  For,  he  that 
cometh  to  God  [i.e.  by  revelation]  must  believe  that 
he  is,  and  that  he  is  a  rewarder  of  them  that  diligently 
seek  him*, 

From  this  account  of  the  Hebrew  Government,  one 
natural  consequence  ariseth,  That  the  principal  rites 
of  their  religion  and  law  were  to  be  performed  and 
celebrated  in  some  determined  place.  This,  the  ob 
ject  and  subject  of  their  cere?nomal  seemed  equally  to 
require.  For,  the  ideas  of  tutelary  God  and  King 
implied  a  local  residence :  and  a  national  act,  created 
by  the  relations  arising  from  these  things,  required  a 
fixed  and  certain  place  for  its  celebration :  and  both 
together  seemed  to  mark  out  the  capital  of  the  country 
for  that  purpose. 

This  consequent  practice,  which  the  nature  and 
reason  of  things  so  evidently  point  out,  the  institutes 
of  the  Hebrew  constitution  expressly  order  and  en 
join.  During  the  early  and  unsettled  times  of  the 
Jewish  state,  the  sacrifices,  prescribed  by  their  ritual, 
were  directed  to  be  offered  up  before  the  door  of  an 
ambulatory  tabernacle  :  but  when  they  had  gained  the 
establishment  decreed  for  them,  and  a  magnificent 
temple  was  erected  for  religious  worship,  then  all  their 
sacrifices  were  to  be  offered  at  Jerusalem  only.. 

Now,  sacrifices  constituting  the  substance  of  their 
national  worship,  their  religion  could  not  be  said  to 
subsist  longer  tharj  the  continuance  of  that  celebration. 
But  sacrifices  could  be  performed  only  in  one  appointed 
temple :  so  that  when  this  was  finally  destroyed,  ac- 

•  Heb.  xi.  6. 

cording 


Chap.  L]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.  37 

cording  to  the  predictions  of  the  prophets,  the  institu* 
tion  itself  became  abolished. 

Nor  was  any  thing  more  consonant  to  the  nature 
of  this  religion,  than  the  assigning  such  a  celebration 
of  its  rites.  The  temple  vtould  exist  while  they  re 
mained  a  people,  and  continued  sovereign  :  and  when 
they  ceased  to  be  such,  they  would  indeed  lose  their 
temple,  but  then  they  had  no  further  use  for  it ;  be 
cause  the  rites  there  celebrated  were  relative  to  them, 
only  as  a  civil  policied  nation. 

These  consequences  are  all  so  necessarily  connected, 
and  were  so  clearly  understood,  that  when  Jesus  in 
forms  the  woman  of  Samaria  of  the  approaching  abo 
lition  of  the  law  of  Moses,  he  expresses  himself  by 
this  circumstance,  that  men  should  no  longer  worship 
at  the  Temple  of  Jerusalem*. 

As  on  the  other  hand,  when  the  false  witnesses 
against  Stephen  deposed  that  they  heard  him  say,  that 
Jesus  of  Nazareth  would  destroy  the  fyoly  place,  the 
Temple,  they  drew  their  own  inference  from  it,  that 
he  would  change  the  law  and  customs  which  Moses 
had  delivered  them  f. 

If,  from  the  nature  of  this  religion,  we  go  on  to 
consider  its  end>  we  shall  find,  in  it,  all  the  marks  of 
a  religion,  preparatory  and  introductory  to  another 
more  complete  and  perfect;  of  which  it  contains  the- 
rudiments,  and  presents  the  shadow.  Such  as  the 
confining  its  fundamental  doctrine,  the  worship  of  the 
true  God,  within  the  limits  of  one  small  country.  Such 
again,  as  its  multifarious  and  enigmatic  ritual;  of 

*  John  iv.  ai. 

t  Acts  vi.  13,  14.  And  in  this  the  falshood  of  their  testimony 
seemed  to  consist.  For  Stephen  could  never  have  spoken  so 
crudely  of  the  destruction  of  the  Law,  when  his  Master  had  said, 
he  was  not  come  to  destroy  the  Law,  but  to  fulfil  it.  Matt.  v.  17. 

D  3  which 


38         OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO      [Book  I. 

which  no  reasonable  account  can  be  had,  but  that 
part  was  instituted  to  oppose  the  reigning  superstitions, 
in  order  to  preserve  the  separation ;  and  part  to  pre 
figure,  by  types  or  symbols,  the  essential  circumstances 
of  some  future  dispensation.  And  part  again,  by  the 
admirable  contrivance  of  divine  Wisdom,  both  opposed 
the  reigning  superstitions,  and  prefigured  the  future 
dispensation. 

But  Christianity,  which  established  its  pretensions 
by  the  power  of  miracles  and  the  purity  of  doctrine, 
doth  in  fact  support  these  conclusions,  by  representing 
Judaism  as  only  the  rudiments  and  shadow  of  its  own 
more  complete  oeconomy. 

This  being  premised,  we  say,  that  the  more  perfect 
dispensation  could  not  take  place  till  the  less  perfect, 
which  prefigured  it,  and  prepared  its  way,  was  set 
aside  and  abolished. 

But  now,  if  the  mere  voluntary  adherence  to  a  re 
ligion,  or  men's  calling  themselves  of  it,  were  enough 
to  prevent  its  abolition,  the  pcrverseness  and  obstinacy 
of  our  nature  are  such,  that  they  might,  and,  in  fact, 
would  lie  in  the  way,  and  obstruct  the  purposes  of 
Providence. 

Therefore  has  the  great  Disposer  of  all  things  so 
divinely  constituted  this  preparatory  religion,  as  to  put 
it  out  of  the  power  of  human  perversity  even  to  delay 
or  retard  its  destined  abolition  -,  by  so  constituting  the 
natures,  and  disposing  the  order  of  his  dispensations, 
that  those  essential  rites,  which  made  the  Jewish  reli 
gion  to  be  what  it  was,  should  of  necessity  require  a 
fixed  local  celebration,  which  it  was  not  possible  to 
perform  longer  than  while  the  Jewish  people  continued 
a  nation,  and  in  possession  of  the  sovereignty  of  Pa 
lestine.  St.  Chrysostom  has  an  elegant  observation 
to  this  purpose :  "  From  the  necessity  (^says  he)  of  a 

"  local 


Chap.  I.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.  39 

"  local  worship,  God  covertly  withdrew  the  Jews 
"  from  the  rage  of  ritual  observances.  For  as  a  Phy- 
"  sician,  by  breaking  the  cup,  prevents  his  patient 
"  from  indulging  his  appetite  in  a  hurtful  draught ;  so 
"  God  withheld  them  from  their  sacrifices,  by  de- 
c£  stroying  the  city  itself,  and  making  the  place  inac- 
"  cessible  to  all  of  them  *." 

It  may  not  be  improper,  in  this  place,  to  take  no 
tice  of  an  objection,  though  indeed  it  be  already  ob 
viated.  It  is,  "  that  the  sacrificing  at  Jerusalem  being 
a  mere  ceremony,  we  can  hardly  conceive  how  the 
want  of  it  should  annihilate  the  whole  system  of  a  reli 
gious  institution.  The  objection  goes  upon  ideas  foreign 
to  the  subject.  The  essence  of  the  Jewish  religion  was 
ceremonial.  Hence  it  is  that  there  is  no  word  in  the 
Hebrew  language  that  signifies  what  we  mean  by  cere 
monies  :  nor,  if  what  we  have  delivered,  concerning  the 
nature  and  genius  of  the  Jewish  religion,  be  true,  could 
there  be  any  such.  The  same  is  observable  in  the 
Greek  language.  And  the  reason  is  the  same.  It 
hath  been  shewn  elsewhere  f,  that  this  nature  was 
common  both  to  the  Jewish  and  Greek  religions ;  rati 
onal  indeed,  in  the  former;  but  altogether  absurd  in 
the  other.  Yet  it  will  be  said,  the  Romans  had  a 
word  to  express  ceremonies.  It  is  true,  they  had. 
And  the  reason  of  their  having  it  will  shew  why  the 
Jews  and  Greeks  had  it  not.  Their  lawgiver,  Numa, 
instituted  a  kind  of  system  of  natural  religion  for  their 
national  use  ;  which,  time  and  craft  soon  corrupted 
with  gross  idolatries.  So  that  as  superstitions  accu- 

*  At*  T»J?   xecra  TC»  TOTTO*  «vayx»K  IctvQctvotluq   atnrw 
vriplro  w^ay^xa  (Actvictq — wawipavo  lalqot;  t'r»j<r»  TTJ?  axa'i 
TO*  apco/ro*,    TO  y^iv^  ottya,nja.$>  ara  >tj  «  ©to?  TUV  Svaiuv  a-Trn 
«xoXtv   auTtjy  xadf&M'i    *j    wot^aa;    ai/Trji  aCalo*  isnffH.      Homil.   VI. 
advers.  Jud. 

t  Divine  Legation. 

r>  4  mulated, 


40        OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  I. 

mulated,  they  would  be  under  a  necessity  of  inventing 
a  word  to  signify  that  specific  mode  of  worship,  through 
which  such  superstitions  were  conveyed. 

Thus  Judaism  being  of  necessity  to  cease  on  the 
establishment  of  Christianity,  we  see  for  what  reason 
it  was  predicted,  that  when  Shiloh  came,  the  sceptre 
should  depart  from  Judah.  Admirable  are  the  ways 
of  Providence !  and  so  will  they  be  always  found, 
whenever  we  happen  upon  the  clue,  that  leads  us  to 
the  right  opening. 

If  then,  from  the  nature  of  things,  it  doth  appear, 
that  the  TEMPLE  WORSHIP  must  fall  with  the  rise  of 
that  which  is  in  spirit  and  in  truth ;  and  that  the 
abolition  of  the  Mosaic  law  is  essential  to  the  esta 
blishment  of  the  Gospel;  we  cannot  but  conclude, 
that  a  matter  of  this  importance  (so  illustrious  a  proof 
of  the  relation  and  dependance  between  these  two  re 
ligions  !)  must  be  predicted,  both  by  the  prophets  of 
the  old,  and  the  Founder  of  the  new  dispensation. 

They  both,  indeed,  have  done  it.  And  fully  to 
comprehend  the  force  and  just  value  of  their  expressions 
was  the  end  for  which  we  have  here  deduced  things 
from  their  original,  and  given  this  general  view  of  the 
course  and  order  of  God's  moral  oeconomy  ;  on  which, 
the  sense  of  the  prophecies  relating  to  it  must  needs 
be  determined :  and  without  which,  the  several  pre 
dictions  of  the  destruction  of  the  temple,  expressed  in 
general  terms,  would  be  subject  to  cavil,  as  iri  them 
selves  implying  only  a  total,  and  not  ajitial  subver 
sion.  Whereas  now,  from  the  nature  of  the  dispensa 
tions,  we  understand  that  a  destruction,  thus  foretold, 
necessarily  implied  &Jinal  one. 

The  prophet  Isaiah,  predicting,  as  usual,  the 
triumphs  of  the  Gospel  under  the  terms  of  a  temporal 
deliverance  of  the  Jews  from  their  hostile  neighbours, 

delivers 


Chap.  I.]    REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.  41 

delivers  himself  in  the  following  words  :  "  And  in  this 
"  mountain  [viz.  of  Zion]  shall  the  Lord  of  Hosts 
"  make  unto  all  people  a  feast  of  fat  things,  a  feast 
c<  of  wines  on  the  lees,  of  fat  things  full  of  marrow,  of 
"  wines  on  the  lees  well  refined.  And  he  will  des- 
"  troy  in  this  mountain  the  face  of  the  covering  cast 
"  over  all  people,  and  the  veil  that  is  spread  over  all 
"  nations.  He  will  swallow  up  death  in  victory  *." 
And  to  shew,  that  some  great  event  in  a  remote  and 
future  age  was  the  principal  object  of  his  prophecy, 
he  introduces  it  with  this  song  of  triumph  :  "  O  Lord, 
"  thou  art  my  God,  I  will  exalt  thee,  I  will  praise 
"  thy  name;  for  thou  hast  done  wonderful  things; 
"  thy  counsels  of  old  are  faith fulness  and truth  f  :"  i.  e. 
What  thou  hast  originally  decreed,  thou  wilt,  in  the 
latter  ages,  bring  to  pass.  Therefore  having,  in  the 
sixth  verse,  enigmatically  described  that  salvation 
which  should  arise  from  mount  Zion ;  in  the  seventh, 
he  more  openly  intimates  the  abolition  of  the  Temple- 
worship,  by  the  figure  of  destroying  that  veil,  which, 
at  the  crucifixion  of  the  Lord  of  life,  the  evangelist 
informs  us,  was  rent  in  twain  from  the  top  to  the 
bottom ;  called  by  the  prophet,  from  the  confined  na 
ture  of  the  Jewish  religion,  the  veil  that  hid  truth  from 
the  nations.  In  this  sense  St.  Paul  appears  to  have  un 
derstood  the  prophecy;  for  he  applies  the  concluding 
words  to  the  last  triumph  of  Christ  over  death  J. 

Conformably  to  these  ideas,  Jesus  says  to  the 
woman  of  Samaria,  "  Believe  me,  the  hour  cometh, 
"  when  ye  shall  neither  in  this  mountain,  nor  yet  at 

<c  Jerusalem,  worship  the  Father But  the  hour 

"  cometh,  and  now  is,  when  the  true  worshippers  shall 
"  worship  the  Father  in  spirit  and  in  truth  ^"  And 

*  Chap.  xxv.  ver.  6,  7,  8.  t  Is.ii.  xxv.   i. 

}  i  Cor.  xv.  54.  §  John  iv.  21,  -22,  23. 

to 


42        OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  I. 

to  secure  the  honour  of  this  great  event,  Providence 
had  decreed  that  the  city  and  temple  of  Jerusalem 
should  be  destroyed ;  of  which  the  angel  informs 
Daniel  in  the  following  words  :  "  And  alter, threescore 
"  and  two  weeks  shall  Messiah  he  cut  off,  but  not 
"  for  himself:  and  the  people  of  the  prince  that 
"  shall  come  shall  destroy  the  city  and  the  sanctuary ; 
"  and  the  end  thereof  shall  be  with  a  flood ,  and  unto 
"  the  end  of  the  war  desolations  are  determined. 
"  And  he  shall  confirm  the  covenant  with  many  for 
"  one  week :  and  in  the  midst  of  the  week  he  shall 
"  cause  the  sacrifice  and  oblation  to  cease,  and  for 
"  the  overspreading  of  abominations  he  shall  make  it 
"  desolate  even  until  the  consummation,  and  that 
"  determined,  shall  be  poured  upon  the  desolate*." 
In  which  we  see  a  plain  and  circumstantial  descrip 
tion  of  the  overthrow  of  the  city  and  temple  by  the 
Romans  under  Titus.  Jesus  foretels  the  then  ap 
proaching  event  in  the  following  manner :  "  And  when 
"  Jesus  was  come  near,  he  beheld  the  city9  and 
ce  wept  over  it,  saying — The  days  shall  come  upon 
"  thee,  that  thine  enemies  shall  cast  a  trench  about 
"  thee,  and  compass  thee  round,  and  keep..thee  in  on 
"  every  side,  and  shall  lay  thee  even  with  the  ground, 
u  and  thy  children  within  thee ;  and  they  shall  not 
"  leave  in  thee  one  stone  upon  another  |."  Two 
other  evangelists  J  inform  us,  that  "  Jesus  went 
"  out,  and  departed  from  the  temple;  and  his  dis- 
"  ciples  came  to  him  for  to  shew  him  the  buildings 
"  of  the  temple.  And  Jesus  said  unto  them,  See  ye 
"  not  all  these  things?  Verily,  I  say  unto  you,  there 
"  shall  not  be  left  here  one  stone  upon  another, 
"  that  shall  not  be  thrown  doun."  And  when  the 

*  Dan.  ix.  26,27.  -f  Luke  xix.  41.  43,  44. 

I  Matt.  xxiv.  i,  2.  15.    Mark  xiii.  i,  2.  14. 

disciples 


Chap.  L]      REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.          43 

disciples  privately  asked  him  when  these  things 
should  be,  he  answered,  When  ye  shall  see  the  abo 
mination  of  desolation  spoken  of  by  Daniel  the  pro 
phet,  standing  in  the  holy  place;  referring  to  the 
prophecy  quoted  above.  Hitherto  we  see  a  total 
destruction  indefinitely  predicted.  The  following 
passage  of  St.  Luke's  Gospel  marks  the  fixed  dura 
tion  of  it.  "  And  Jerusalem  (says  Jesus)  shall  be 
"  trodden  down  of  the  Gentiles,  until  the  times  of 
"  the  Gentiles  be  fulfilled*."  But,  of  the  period 
here  meant,  commentators  differ :  Some,  as  Hammond, 
suppose  it  reaches  no  lower  than  till  the  empire  be 
came  Christian:  others,  as  Dr.  S.  Clarke,  that  it  ex 
tends  to  the  future  conversion  of  the  Jews. 

Amidst  this  uncertainty,  arising  from  the  general 
expressions  of  these  prophecies  considered  alone,  the 
only  way  of  coming  to  the  truth,  i.e.  to  know  whe 
ther  they  mean  a  jinal  destruction,  or,  if  not,  what 
sort  of  restoration ;  and  when  it  is  to  succeed ;  the 
only  way,  I  say,  is  to  recur  to  what  hath  been  dis 
coursed  above,  concerning  the  nature,  of  the  TWO 
DISPENSATIONS  :  In  which  we  have  shewn,  that 
Christianity  and  the  Temple-worship  cannot  subsist 
together:  and  so  must  conclude,  that  these  prophe 
cies  foretel  not  only  the  total,  but  the  Jinal  destruc 
tion  of  the  Jewish  temple. 

And  now,  What  are  we  to  conclude  from  all  this, 
to  the  case  in  hand  ? — It  is  evident,  a  repugnancy 
in  the  co-existence  of  Judaism  and  Christianity,  would 
require  God's  interposition  to  prevent  the  restora 
tion  of  the  temple :  it  is  as  evident,  that  a  prophecy 
of  \\sfinal  destruction  would  do  the  same.  Either  of 
these  facts  therefore  being  sufficient  to  establish  our 
point,  so  much  discourse  had  not  been  employed  on 

*  Luke  xxi.  24. 

both, 


44        OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  I. 

both,  had  they  stood  independent  of  one  another. 
But  the  prophecies  being  so  delivered,  as  to  be  of 
themselves  ambiguous,  there  was  a  necessity  of  calling 
in  the  nature  of  God's  dispensations,  to  explain  their 
precise  meaning;  which  prophecies  would,  then,  re 
ciprocally  support  what  we  infer  from  the  different 
genius  of  the  two  religions. 

If  it  be  asked  (as  there  is  now  no  secret  in  the 
counsels  of  God  but  what  audacious  man  will  ask 
the  reason  of)  4<  Why  the  Jinal  destruction  of  the 
temple  was  so  doubtfully  delivered,  that  there  was 
need  of  our  having  recourse  to  the  nature  and  genius 
of  the  two  dispensations,  to  comprehend  the  full 
meaning  of  the  prophecy?"  I  answer,  in  general, 
that  it  seems  very  irreverent,  when  God  hath  clearly 
made  known  his  will  to  us,  to  cavil  with  his  wisdom, 
for  not  doing  it  in  that  way  which  to  us  may  seem 
the  most  direct  and  simple.  But,  in  this  case  it 
happens,  that  we  see  great  ends  obtained,  by  the  very 
•way  he  hath  been  pleased  to  use.  For  by  obliging  us 
to  have  recourse  to  the  nature  of  his  dispensations, 
in  order  to  ascertain  the  full  meaning  of  his  prophecies, 
he  hath  put  us  under  the  necessity  of  having  always 
in  view  a  circumstance  of  great  moment,  which  we 
might  otherwise  be  apt  to  forget;  a  circumstance 
which  impresseth  on  us  the  strongest  ideas  of  the  di 
vine  wisdom.  Had  the  abolition  of  Judaism,  on  the 
establishment  of  Christianity  been  only  expedient, 
and  not  necessary,  as  even  in  that  case  we  may 
be  assured  it  had  been  in  God's  counsel  never  to 
suffer  the  temple  to  be  rebuilt,  so  \ve  may  well  be 
lieve  that  the  revelation  of  this  counsel  by  prophecy 
had  been  in  the  express  terms  of  &Jinal  destruction ; 
because,  from  the  expediency  only  of  an  aboluion, 
general  terms  could  never  lead  us  to  conclude  the 

predicted 


Chap.  L]      REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.  45 

predicted  destruction  to  be  Jinal.  But  now  as  the 
abolition  was  necessary,  that  alone  would  suffice  to 
fix  the  precise  meaning  of  general  terms.  And  as 
the  use  of  general  terms  would  oblige  us  to  have 
recourse  to  those  circumstances  on  which  the  necessity 
was  founded,  and  the  constant  view  of  those  circum 
stances  is  highly  useful  for  religious  purposes,  there 
fore  were  general  terms  very  wisely  employed. 

It  may  perhaps  be  further  objected,  °  That  the 
reasons  here  given  for  the  necessity  of  abolishing  Ju 
daism,  on  tiie  coming  of  Christianity,  reach  no  farther 
than  to  a  virtual  abolition  :  whereas  it  is  an  actual 
abolition  only  that  can  serve  our  purpose." 

To  this  I  reply,  That  the  abolition  of  a  preparatory 
religion,  on  the  appearance  of  that  which  was  to 
follow,  is  not  a  matter  of  every  day's  experience. 
There  is  but  this  one  instance  in  the  world,  and  never 
will  be  another.  Let  us  divest  ourselves,  therefore, 
of  all  those  common  notions  we  form  from  analogies 
and  we  shall  see  that  reason  leads  us  to  expect  an 
actual  abolition.  Indeed,  according  to  our  ideas  of 
the  general  nature  of  religion,  an  actual  abolition 
could  not  be  certainly  had,  without  a  force  upon  free 
will  ;  hence,  in  such  cases,  a  virtual  abolition  is  all 
we  are  to  expect ;  and,  from  a  consideration  of  the 
general  nature  of  religion,  we  are  misled  into  this 
objection.  But  the  religion  in  question  was  of  a  pe 
culiar  kind.  The  essential  part  of  it  was  a  local 
worship.  This  might  be  actually  abolished  without 
any  force  upon  the  will.  When  therefore  an  abolition 
was  foretold,  and  the  necessity  of  it  seen,  must  we 
not  conclude  such  a  one  to  be  meant  ?  On  the  whole, 
a  virtual  abolition  of  circumcision,  purification,  dis 
tinction  of  meats,  &c  which  regarded  particulars  di 
rectly,  and  the  body,  only  obliquely,  was  all  that  could 

be 


46         OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  I. 

be  expected  :  but  the  nature  of  things  seems  to  require 
an  actual  abolition  of  what  concerned  only  the  body 
as  such;  which  was  the  temple-worship.  To  these 
many  other  reasons  might  be  added,  such  as  the  ap 
parent  necessity  of  shewing,  that  this  nation  was  no 
longer  God's  peculiar  \  which  could  hardly  be  done 
while  they  were  in  possession  of  a  worship,  that  was 
the  characteristic  mark  of  God's  peculiarity :  and  such 
as  the  transferring  the  kingship  of  the  Jews  from  God 
to  Christ ;  which  would  not  appear  to  be  done  while 
the  tern  pie- worship,  the  specific  act  of  allegiance,  was 
in  being.  There  are  various  considerations  besides 
of  equal  weight.  But  we  may  seem  perhaps  to  have 
already  exceeded  the  proportion  that  the  parts  of  this 

discourse  should  bear  to  one  another And  yet  I  am 

tempted  to  make  one  observation  more,  which,  I  hope 
the  importance  of  the  subject  will  excuse. 

The  prophecy  of  Jesus,  concerning  the  approaching 
destruction  of  Jerusalem  by  Titus,  is  conceived  in  such 
high  and  swelling  terms,  that  not  only  the  modern  in 
terpreters,  but  the  ancient  likewise,  have  supposed  that 
our  Lord  interweaves  into  it  a  DIRECT  prediction  of 
his  second  coming  to  judgement*.  Hence  arose  a 
current  opinion  of  those  times,  that  the  consummation 
of  all  things  was  at  hand;  which  hath  afforded  a 
handle  to  an  infidel  objection  in  these,  insinuating  that 
Jesus,  in  order  to  keep  his  followers"  attached  to  his 
service,  and  patient  under  sufferings,  flattered  them 
with  the  near  approach  of  those  rewards  which  com- 
pleated  all  their  views  and  expectations.  To  which, 
the  defenders  of  religion  have  opposed  this  answer, 
That  the  distinction  of  short  and  long,  in  the  duration 
of  time,  is  lost  -in  eternity ;  and,  with  the  Almighty, 
a  thousand  years  are  but  as  yesterday,  &c. 

*  See  Divine  Legation. 

But 


Chap.  I.]      REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.  -         47 

But  the  principle  both  go  upon  is  false;  and  if  what 
hath  been  said  be  duly  weighed,  it  will  appear,  that  the 
parts  of  this  prophecy  which  mark  a  speedy  advent, 
do  not  respect  God's  second  coming  to  judgement,  but 
\i\sjirst ;  in  the  abolition  of  the  Jewish  policy,  and  the 
ESTABLISHMENT  of  the  Christian;  that  kingdom  of 
Christ,  which  commenced  on  the  total  ceasing  of  the 
theocracy.  For  as  God's  reign  over  the  Jews  entirely 
ended  with  the  abolition  of  the  temple- service,  so  the 
reign  of  Christ,  in  spirit  and  in  truth,  had  then  its 
first  beginning. 

This  was  the  true  ESTABLISHMENT  of  Christianity, 
not  that  effected  by  the  donations  or  conversions  of 
Constantine.  Till  the  Jewish  Law  was  abolished, 
over  which  the  Father  presided  as  King,  the  reign 
oft  he  Son  could  not  take  place ;  because  the  sove 
reignty  of  Christ  over  mankind,  was  that  very  sove 
reignty  of  God  over  the  Jews,  transferred,  and  more 
largely  extended. 

This  therefore  being  one  of  the  most  important  a?ras 
in  the  cKconomy  of  grace ;  and  the  most  awful  revolu 
tion  in  all  God's  religious  dispensations;  we  see  the 
elegance  and  propriety  of  the  terms  in  question,  to 
denote  so  great  an  event,  together  with  the  destruction 
of  Jerusalem,  by  which  it  was  effected  :  for  in  the  old 
prophetic  language  *  the  change  and  fall  of  principa 
lities  and  powers,  whether  spiritual  or  civil,  are  sig 
nified  by  the  shaking  heaven  and  earth ;  the  darkening 
the  sun  and  moon,  and  the  failing  of  the  stars ;  as  the 
rise  and  establishment  of  ntw  ones  are  by  processions 
in  the  clouds  of  heaven,  by  the  sound  of  trumpets,  and 
the  assembling  together  of  hosts  and  congregations  ]\ 

Thus  much,   therefore,   being  premised,  we  enter 

*  See  The  Divine  Legation,  Books  III.  &  IV. 
f  Matt.  chap.  xxiv. 

directly 


48        OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO      [Book  I. 

directly  on  our  subject ;  it  being  now  seen,  that  the 
truth  of  Christianity  must  stand  or  fall  with  the  ruin  or 
the  restoration  of  the  temple  at  Jerusalem ;  for  if  that 
temple  should  be  rebuilt  for  the  purpose  of  Jewish 
worship,  Christianity  could  not  support  its  pretensions; 
nor  the  Prophets,  nor  Jesus,  the  truth  of  their  pre 
dictions. 


CHAP.     II. 

THERE  was  a  time  when  the  powers  of  this  world 
were  all  opposed  to  the  progress  of  the  gospel ;  and 
as  they  continued  thus  opposed  for  some  ages,  it  would 
have  been  a  miracle,  as  rare  as  most  of  those  by  which 
it  was  supported,  if,  amongst  the  various  attempts  to 
suppress  and  discredit  it,  there  had  not  been  a  project 
formed  to  give  the  lie  to  those  prophecies  which  de 
nounced  lasting  ruin  and  desolation  to  the  Jewish 
Temple. 

The  first  attempt  upon  Christianity  was  such  as 
was  most  natural  to  this  power,  the  suppressing  it  by 
brutal  force :  and  the  subjection  of  the  whole  civilized 
world  to  the  despotic  will  of  one  blind  persecutor,  gave 
that  force  its  utmost  moment.  The  violence  of  its 
effort  was  TEN  times  repeated;  and  as  often,  by  the 
blood  of  the  martyrs,  victoriously  repelled. 

Though  this  may  be  justly  reckoned  amongst  the 
marks  of  its  divinity,  yet  it  must  be  owned,  that  brutal 
force  was  not  the  most  artful  or  dangerous  way  of  pro 
curing  the  ruin  even  of  what  they  thought  it,  a  mere 
human  contrivance.  The  utmost  which  force  can  do 
(and  that  it  often  fails  in)  is  to  stop  the  progress  of  a 
profession  :  while  the  same  advantages  of  power,  em 
ployed  towards  a  rational  conviction  of  its  falsehood, 

proceed 


Chap.  II.]      REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.          49 

proceed  more  fatally  to  its  subversion.  But  this  method 
of  attack  required  a  comprehensive  knowledge  of  human 
nature,  and  of  die  doctrines  to  be  suppressed. 

Few  of  the  persecuting  emperors  had  either.  M. 
Antoninus  had  the  one ;  Julian  only,  who  closed  the 
scene,  had  both.  Till  his  time,  the  sole  engine  was 
simple  force.  Antonine  himself  used  no  other.  And 
yet  his  knowledge  of  men  might  have  shewn  him  the 
folly  of  so  unmanly  a  proceeding.  But  then  he  knew 
no  more  of  Christianity  than  the  most  ignorant  of  his 
courtiers.  Philosophy,  which  should  have  led  him  to 
inquire  into  a  religion  that  all  were  running  eagerly  to 
embrace,  was  the  very  thins;  that  restrained  his  curiosity. 
For  Stoical  pride  (of  which  sect  he  was)  would  confess 
no  need  of  the  knowledge  of  falsehood  to  perfect  its 
followers  in  truth  :  It  despised  the  oblique  genius  of 
the  Academy,  which"  made  all  truth  to  depend  on  the 
knowledge  and  detection  of  falsehood. 

Julian  was  the  first  who  got  enough  acquainted  with 
the  Gospel  to  apply  such  arms  against  it  as  must  have 
ended  in  its  ruin,  had  it  been  nothing  more  than  what 
he  affected  to  think  it,  a  human  invention.  And  here 
we  shall  be  forced  to  confess,  that  Providence  seems 
to  have  raised  up  this  extraordinary  man  on  set  purpose 
to  do  the  last  honours  to  the  Religion  of  Jesus ;  to 
shew  the  world  what  human  power,  with  all  its  advan 
tages  united,  was  able  to  oppose  to  its  establishment. 
For  we  find  in  this  emperor  all  the  great  qualities  that 
a  projector  could  conceive,  or  an  adversary  would  re 
quire,  to  secure  success  to  so  daring  an  opposition. 
He  was  eloquent  and  liberal ;  artful,  insinuating,  and 
indefatigable;  which,  joined* to  a  severe  temperance, 
an  affected  love  of  justice,  and  a  courage  superior  to 
all  trials,  first  gained  him  the  affections,  and,  soon 
after,  the  peaceable  possession  of  the  whole  empire. 

VOL.  VIIL  E  Ht 


.50         OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  T. 

He  was  bred  up  in  the  Christian  religion  from  his 
infancy :  and  was  obliged  to  profess  it  (or  at  least  to 
disguise  his  passion  *  for  Paganism)  to  the  time  he 
assumed  the  purple.     His  aversion  to  his  uncle  Con- 
stantine,  and  his  cousin  Constantius,  for  the  cruelties 
exercised  on  his  family,  had  prejudiced  him  against  the 
Christian  religion :  and  his  attachment  to  some  Pla 
tonic  sophists,  who  had  been  employed  in  his  education, 
gave  him  as  violent  a  bias  towards  Paganism.    He  was 
ambitious;    and  Paganism,  in  some  of  its  Theurgic 
rites,  had  flattered  and  encouraged  his  views  of  the 
diadem :  He  was  vain,  which  made  him  aspire  to  the 
glory  of  re-establishing  the  ancient  rites  :  he  was  ex 
tremely  knowing,  and  fond  of  Grecian  literature ;  the 
very  soul  of  which,  in  his  opinion  -);,  was  the  old  Theo 
logy  :    But  above  all,  notwithstanding  a  considerable 
mixture  of  enthusiasm]:,  his  superstition  was  excessive, 
and  what  nothing  but  the  blood  of  hecatombs  could 
appease. 

With  these  dispositions  he  came  to  the  empire ;  and, 
consequently,  with  a  determined  purpose  of  subverting 
the  Christian,  and  restoring  the  Pagan  worship.  His 
predecessors  had  left  him  the  repeated  experience  of 
the  inefficacy  of  downright  force.  The  virtue  of  the 
first  Christians  then  rendered  this  effort  fruitless ;  the 
numbers  of  the  present  would  have  now  made  it  danger 
ous.  He  found  it  necessary  therefore  to  change  his 
ground  :  his  knowledge  of  human  nature  furnished  him 
with  arms ;  and  his  knowledge  of  the  faith  he  had 

*  A  rudimentis  pueritiae  primis  inclinatior  erat  erga  uummum 
cultum,  paullatimque  adulescens  desidcrio  rei  flagrabat.  Am.  Marc. 
1.  xxii.  c.  5. 

tVid.  Ep.  Jul.  xlii. 

J  05-ros  ['laTuaws]  o  inrcfcW;  f*w$fe»$  fyitiw  A»^0<r<v.— Libanii 

Or.  de  ulc.  Juliani  nece, 

abandoned, 


Chap.  II.]      REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.  51 

abandoned,  enabled  him  to  direct  those  arms  to  most 
advantage. 

He  began  with  re-establishing  Paganism  by  law*, 
and  granting  a  full  liberty  of  conscience  to  the  Chris 
tians.  On  this  principle,  he  restored  those  to  their  civil 
rights,  of  what  party  soever,  who  had  been  banished  on 
account  of  religion  ;  and  even  affected  to  reconcile,  to 
a  mutual  forbearance,  the  various  sects  of  Christianity. 
Yet  notwithstanding,  his  own  historian  assures  us,  he 
put  on  this  mask  of  moderation  and  equity,  for  no 
other  purpose  than  to  inflame  the  dissensions  in  the 
church  f.  And  his  subsequent  conduct  fully  justifies 
the  historian's  observation. 

He  then  lined  and  banished  ;{;  such  of  the  more  po 
pular  clergy  as  had  abused  their  power,  either  in  excit 
ing  the  people  to  burn  and  destroy  pagan  temples,  or 
to  commit  violence  on  an  opposite  sect.  And  it  cannot  , 
be  denied  but  that  their  turbulent  and  insolent  manners 
deserved  all  the  severity  of  his  justice. 

He  proceeded  to  revoke  and  take  away  those  immu 
nities,  honours,  and  revenues  §,  which  his  uncle  and 
cousin  had  granted  to  the  clergy.  Neither  was  his 
pretence  for  this  altogether  unreasonable.  He  judged 
the  grants  to  be  exorbitant  ;  and  besides,  as  they  were 
attendant  on  a  national  religion,  \v\\ent\\zestablishment 
came  to  be  transferred  from  Christianity  to  Paganism, 

*  Planis  absolutisque  decretis  aperiri  templa,  arisque  hostias 
admoveri  ad  deorum  statuit  cultum.  Am.  Mar.  1.  xxii.  c.  5. 

j-  Utque  dispositorum  roboraret  efteetum,  dissulentes  Christi- 
anorum  antistites  cum  plebe  discis^a  in  palatium  intromissos  mo- 
nebat,  ut,  civilibus  discordiis  consopitis,  qui-que,  nullo  vetaute, 
religion!  suae  serviret  intrepidus.  Quod  ugobat  ideo  obstinate,  ut 
dissensiones,  augente  licentia,  non  timeret  unanimantem  postea 
plebern.  Idem  ib. 

I  Nazian.  Oral,  i,  cont.  Jul. 


Val.]  Soz.l.v.  0.5. 

£  2  he 


52          OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Rook  I. 

he  concluded  they  must  follow  the  religion  of  the  state. 
But  there  was  one  immunity  he  took  away,  which  no 
good  policy,  even  under  an  establishment,  should  have 
granted  them  ;  which  was  an  exemption  *  from  the 
civil  tribunals. 

The  Apostate  went  still  further  ;  he  disqualified  the 
Christian  laity  for  bearing  office  in  the  state  :  and  even 
this,  the  security  of  the  established  religion  may  often 
require. 

But  his  most  illiberal  treatment  of  the  Christians, 
was  his  forbidding  the  professors,  who  were  of  that 
religion,  to  teach  humanity  and  the  sciences,  in  the 
public  schools.  His  more  immediate  design,  in  this, 
was  to  hinder  the  youth  from  taking  impressions  to  the 
disadvantage  of  Paganism  :  His  remoter  view,  to  de 
prive  Christianity  of  the  support  of  human  literature  f. 

Not 


*  To~<j  $aXetflj?g»oK  farito&Uh      Soz.  1.  V.   C.  5. 

fThis  edict  is  to  be  found  amongst  the  works  of  Julian;  and 
goes  under  the  name  of  his  xliid  epistle.  It  forbids  the  Christian 
Professors  to  teach  human  literature.  But  because  the  ancients, 
such  as  Gregory  Naz.  Socrates,  Sozomene,  Theodoret,  and  Hufinus, 
expressly  say,  that  he  forbad  Christians  to  learn  it;  some  modern 
critics  have  embarrassed  themselves  in  according  this  imaginary 
difference.  Baronius  and  Vaieslus,  who  could  not  find  it  was  for 
bidden,  by  this  edict,  to  learn,  concluded  there  was  no  such  pio- 
bibition.  Tillemont  and  Fleuri  will  not  allow  the  fathers  to  be 
mistaken;  and  therefore  imagine  there  was  another  edict,  which 
extended  the  prohibition  to  the  case  in  question.  Tillemont  sup 
poses  this  the  more  readily,  because  he  thinks  the  xliid  letter  is 
indefinite  and  obscure.  It  appears  to  me  very  clear  and  precise; 
and  it  seems  strange  none  of  these  critics  saw,  that,  as  this  pro 
hibition  is  circumstanced  in  the  edict,  the  not  being  allowed  to 
learn  was  the  necessary  consequence  of  being  forbid  to  teach.  For 
the  Professors  are  not  only  disallowed  to  explain  Pagan  authors 
to  Pagan  auditories,  but  to  Christian  likewise;  as  appears  from 
the  following  words,  But  if  they  [The  Christian  professors]  think 
these  authors  give  a  false  and  unworthy  account  oj  the  tremendous 
majesty  of  the  immortals,  let  them  go  and  explain  Matthew  and  Luke 

in 


Chap.  II.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.  53 

Not  content  with  this,  he  endeavoured  even  to  destroy 
what  was  already  written  in  defence  of  Christianity. 
With  this  view  he  wrote  to  Ecdicius  the  governor  of 
Egypt,  and  to  Porphyry  the  treasurer-general,  to  collect 
up,  and  send  to  him  the  library  *  of  George  bishop  of 
Alexandria,  who  for  his  cruelty  and  tyranny  had  been 
torn  in  pieces  by  the  people.  Nay, 

in  the  churches  oj  the  Galileans,    tl  <il  EK  T«?  rtfttvlamt  v 


Aaxav.  But  why  was  this  said,  if  they  were  at  liberty 
to  teach  the  Christian  youth  the  sciences  ?  If  they  were  not,  Where 
could  they  go  for  instruction  but  to  the  schools  of  the  Pagan 
Professors?  Hither,  indeed,  they  are  invited  by  the  edict  itself. 
Those  of  the  [Christian]  youth  (says  Julian)  10/10  are  desirous  of 
frequenting  [the  schools  of  the  Pagan  professors]  are  by  no  means 
to  be  excluded.  *O  /3aAo/*£vo?  ruv  v'tuv  (poilciv,  »*  a7roxexA«ra».  This 
was  kind  :  but  would  by  no  means  be  accepted.  Here  the  bait 
was  half  off  the  hook  ;  and  discovered,  that  to  draw  them  thither 
was  one  end  of  the  edict  :  which  he  imagined  would  necessarily 
reduce  things  to  this  state,  either  to  dispose  the  Galileans,  during 
their  youth,  in  favour  of  Paganism  ;  or  to  disable  them,  in  their 
adult  age,  to  defend  Christianity.  So  that  it  appears,  from  hence, 
bis  forbidding  Christian  professors  to  explain  Pagan  writers  to  any 
audience  whatsoever,  fully  amounted  to  a  prohibition  of  learning 
them.  The  Fathers,  we  see,  did  not  scruple  directly  to  affirm  it. 
And  that  they  believed  it,  appears  from  their  finding  no  other  way 
of  avoiding  the  dilemma  of  corruption,  or  ignorance,  than  by  com 
posing  Epic  poems,  tragedies,  and  other  classic  compositions  upon 
-a  Christian  plan,  and  on  subjects  taken  from  sacred  story.  This 
circumstance  (had  Baronius  and  Valesius  attended  to  it)  was  alone 
sufficient  to  shew  them,  that  the  Fathers  have  told  us  no  more 
than  what  they  saw  and  felt,  when  they  said,  that  Julian  forbad 
them  to  learn  human  literature,  as  well  as  to  teach  it.  Let  me 
add,  that  nothing  but  this  interpretation  of  his  edict  can  account 
for  the  severe  censure  which  his  own  historian,  Ammianus  Mar- 
cellinus,  passes  upon  it,  in  the  following  words;  "  illud  autem  erat 
"  inclemens,  obruendum  perenni  silentio,  quod  arcebat  docere  ma- 
"  gistros  rhetoricos  et  grammaticos,  ritus  Christian!  cultores." 
Lib.  xxii.  c.  10. 

*  Ep.    ix.    and    XXXvi.  —  -orotoa   plv  ya,%   *,v   <piXo<ro< 
a   ft    pVkgma,    -nroAAa    Si  jv    t£  T??    run    }vro-£uv 
en  rxpa/KT0«t  m*fat    Ep.  ix, 
E3 


54         OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  I. 

Nay,  to  such  a  length  did  his  aversion  to  the  name 
of  CHRIST  carry  him,  as  to  decree,  by  a  public  edict, 
that  his  followers  should  be  no  longer  called  Christians. 
but  Galileans*'  Not  but  there  might  be  a  mixture  of 
policy  in  it  too,  as  knowing  the  efficacy  of  a  nick-name 
to  render  a  profession  ridiculous.  However,  it  is  more 
than  probable,  superstition  had  its  share  in  this  un~ 
princely  edict.  The  fanatic  Platonists,  to  whom  Julian 
had  entirely  given  himself  up,  were  much  besotted 
with  the  mysterious  power  of  names.  These  having 
been  struck  with  the  wonders  performed  by  the  name 
of  Christ,  and  finding  so  many  difficulties  oppose 
themselves  to  their  master's  exterminating  scheme, 
might  well  fancy  there  was  a  certain  charm  in  the  word 
Christian,  which  rendered  the  religion,  so  denominated, 
invincible.  And  this  seems  to  be  the  ground  Gregory 
Naz.  went  upon  (if  he  had  any)  for  saying,  that  the 
reason  of  this  extraordinary  law  might  be,  that  Julian 
trembled  at  the  name  of  Christ,  just  as  the  Demons 
did,  who  suffered  torments  as  often  as  they  heard  it 
pronounced  j\ 

A  man  so  transported  by  a  train  of  the  most  un- 
govcrned  passions,  we  may  well  suppose,  would  stop 
at  no  means,  how  low  and  vile  soever,  to  carry  on  his 
project.  His  letters  afford  us  an  instance  of  one  so 
dishonourable,  that  no  testimony  but  his  own  could 
make  it  credible.  Titus,  bishop  of  Bostra,  and  his 
clergy,  in  an  address  presented  to  Julian,  acquaint  him 


"* 
Greg.  Nuz.  Orat.  ii.  cent.  Jul. 

f  -4    QoGzfAsyoq    ye    TW    &ut*fAW  TK    Grgoar,'yQgioi.<;,    uyrfi^    ct    ^at'ipon., 


Orat.  iii. 

Ka*  Q 
vV9  r>j5 
Orat,  i. 


\vjth 


Chap.  II.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE:  •         55 

\vith  their  care  in  keeping  the  flock  committed  to  them 
(then  equal  in  number  to  the  Pagans)  in  due  obedience 
to  the  laws.  The  return  Julian  makes  for  this  act  of 
duty,  is  to  acquaint  the  people  of  Bostra,  that  their 
bishop  was  become  their  delator;  that  he  had  repre 
sented  them  as  prone  to  sedition,  and  even  capable  of 
the  last  excesses,  but  that  he  and  his  clergy  kept  them 
in  order.  For  this  crime  therefore,  which  he  calls  the 
taking  to  himself  the  merit  of  the  people's  good  beha 
viour,  he  advises  them  to  expel  the  bishop  from  their 
city  *. 

After  this,  no  instance  of  baseness  or  injustice  will 
be  thought  strange.  On  pretence  that  the  Arian 
church  of  Edessa  was  too  rich,  and  had  not  used  the 
Valentinians  with  temper,  he  seized  on  every  thing 
belonging  to  it,  and  divided  the  plunder  amongst  his 
soldiers.  And,  to  add  the  bitterness  of  contumely  to 
his  injustice,  he  told  them  he  did  it  to  ease  them  of 
their  burthens,  that  they  might  proceed  more  lightly, 
and  with  less  impediment  in  their  journey  to  Heaven  f. 

But  Socrates,  the  historian,  tells  us,  that  he  im 
posed  a  tax  or  tribute,  proportioned  to  every  man's 
circumstances,  on  all  who  would  not  sacrifice  J.  This 
was  persecution  in  form :  and  yet  he  did  not  stop  here, 
but  proceeded  to  still  greater  extremities. 

Though  he  did  not  persecute  to  death  by  laws,  that 
being  directly  contrary  to  his  edicts  of  toleration,  which 

*  Ep.  Hi.  B0rp»»*~?.  It  is  remarkable,  that  the  author  of  the 
Characteristics,  in  his  third  volume  of  Misc.  Ref.  hatli  grven  us  a 
translation  of  this  letter,  for  a  pattern,  as  he  tells  us,  of  the 
humour  and  genius,  of  the  principle  and  sentiments,  of' this  virtuous, 
gallant,  generous,  and  mild  Emperor,  p.  87,  &  seq.  4th  ed.  It  is 
true,  his  translation  drops  the  affair  of  Titus,  their  bishop.  So 
that  nothing  hinders  his  reader  from  concluding  but  that  the 
Emperor  might  indeed  be  as  gallant  and  generous  as  he  is  pleased 
to  represent  him. 

t  Ep.  xliii.  'EiMiCoty.  I  Hist.  Eccl.  1.  iii.  c.  13. 

E  4  he 


56        OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  I. 

he  had  \vith  so  much  ostentation  and  frequency  re 
peated  ;  yet  he  connived  at  the  //my  of  the  people,  and 
the  brutality  of  the  governors  of  provinces;  who, 
during  his  short  reign,  brought  many  martyrs  to  the 
stake.  For  he  put  such  into  governments,  whose  in 
humanity  and  blind  zeal  for  their  country-superstitions 
were  most  distinguished.  And  when  the  suffering 
churches  presented  their  complaints  to  him,  he  dis 
missed  them  with  cruel  scoffs;  telling  them*,  their 
religion  directed  them  to  suffer  without  murmuring. 
So  tiiat  we  have  little  reason  to  doubt  what  the  anci 
ents  t  say  of  his  declared  intention  (had  he  returned 
victorious  from  the  Persian  war)  to  subject  the  whole 
Christian  world  to  the  honester  persecution  of  fire  and 
sword  J. 

These  were  the  efforts  of  the  Emperor  Julian  to 
overturn  Christianity.  However  he  took  care  to  avoid 
the  absurdity  of  our  modern  apostates,  who  are  for 
abolishing  the  faith  in  which,  like  him,  they  have  been 
bred,  without  substituting  any  other  religion  in  its 
stead.  Julian's  attempts  to  destroy  Christianity  did 

*  Greg.  Naz.  i.  Orat.  cont.  Jul.  Socrat.  Eccl.  Hist.  1.  iii.  c.  14. 

-\  Greg.  Naz.  ii.  Orat.  contr.  Jul.  Ruff.  Eccl.  Hist.  1.  i.  c.  36. 
How  well  all  this  agrees  with  what  the  author  of  the  Character 
istics  says  of  Julian,  in  the  following  words,  I  leave  the  admirers 
of  that  noble  writer  to  determine  :  [Julian]  was  a  great  rcstrainer 
of  persecution  ,  and  would  allow  of  nothing  further  than  a  resumption 
of  church  la/ias  anfJ  publick  schools  ;  without  any  attempt  on  the 
goods  or  persons,  even  of  those  who  branded  the  state  religion,  and 
made  a  merit  of  affronting  the  public  worship.  Vol.  I.  p.  25, 
4th  edit. 

I  \Vhat  his  creature  and  confident  Libanius  tells  us,  as  part  of 
his  panegyric,  makes  this  account  of  the  Christian  writers  very 
credible.  He  says  that  Julian  took  up  arms  against  Constantius, 
to  restore  the  Pagan  religion  :  OUTO?  o  visi%  TU»  l^^y^ut  Itfiv  rtvx- 


De  Ulcis.  Juliam  nee. 

not 


Chap.  II.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.  57 

not  precede,  but  went  hand  in  hand  with  his  projects  j 
to  support  and  reform  Paganism. 

He  wrote  and  he  preached  in  person,  in  defence  of 
Gentile_sii£erstition  :  and  has  himself  acquainted  us 
with  the  ill  success  of  his  ministry  *.  Of  his  contro 
versial  writings,  his  answerer  Cyril  hath  given  us  a 
large  specimen  ;  by  which  we  see  he  was  equally 
intent  to  recommend  Paganism  and  to  discredit 
Revelation. 

His  reformation  of  Gentile  superstition  turned  upon 
these  points  :  J  .  To  hide  the  absurdity  of  its  traditions 
by  moral  and  philosophic  allegories  f  .  These  he  found 
provided  to  his  hands,  principally,  by  philosophers  of 
his  own  sect,  the  Platonists.  Who,  not  without  the 
assistance  of  the  other  sects  of  Theisls,  had,  ever 
since  the  appearance  of  Christianity,  been  refining 
the  theology  of  Paganism,  to  oppose  it  to  that  of  Reve 
lation  ;  under  pretence,  that  their  new-invented  alle 
gories  were  the  ancient  spirit  of  the  letter,  which  the 
first  poetical  divines  had  conveyed  down,  in  this  in- 
velope,  to  posterity.  A  noble  design!  of  which  some 
letters,  lately  published,  concerning  mythology,  will 
give  the  reader  a  very  tolerable  idea. 

2.  He  then  attempted  to  correct  the  morals  of  the 
Pagan  priesthood,  and  regulate  their  manners  on  the 
practice  of  the  first  Christians.  In  his  epistle  to  Arsa- 
cius,  he  not  only  requires  of  them  a  personal  behaviour 
void  of  offence  ;  but  that  they  reform  their  houshold 
on  the  same  principle  :  He  directs  that  they  who  attend 


tt;  TW 

irrivuv    |M,Ei>  a,ira.v\s<;t  e7reia0»jo-av  $i    CIVTOK; 
irpo  TUV  ipuv  hoywrt  E^OKWV  iX,tn>  vyw$  §Aa- 
Ipi-v]/«<70«t  rr,v  oil^u  t£  awoOeVOat.    Ep.  XXVli. 
viu  o-o^»r>7. 

+  See  his  discourse  composed  in  honour  of  the  Mother  of  tho 
Gods, 

at 


58         OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Bcok  I. 

at  the  altar  should  abstain  from  the  theatre,  the  tavern, 
and  the  exercise  of  all  ignoble  professions :  that  in  their 
private  character  they  be  meek  and  humble;  but  that, 
in  the  acts  and  offices  of  religion,  they  assume  a  cha 
racter  conformable  to  the  majesty  of  the  immortal 
Gods,  whose  ministers  they  are.  But  above  all  he 
recommends  to  them  the  virtues  of  charity  and  bene 
volence  *. 

With  regard  to  discipline  and  religious  policy,  Na- 
zianzene  and  Sozomene  tell  us,  he  had  planned  an 
establishment  for  readers  in  divinity;  for  the  order 
and  parts  of  the  divine  offices ;  for  a  regular  and  formal 
service,  with  days  and  hours  of  worship ;  that  he  had 
decreed  to  found  hospitals  for  the  poor,  monasteries 
for  the  devout,  and  to  prescribe  and  enjoin  initiatory 
and  expiatory  rites,  with  a  course  of  instruction  for 
converts,  and  of  penance  for  offenders;  and  in  all 
things  to  imitate  the  church  discipline  of  that  time  f. 


CHAP.    III. 

BUT  the  indifference  and  corruptions  of  Paganism, 
joined  to  the  inflexibility  and  perseverance  of  the  Chris 
tians,  kept  his  project  from  advancing  with  that  speed 
which  his  malice  as  uell  as  zeal  demanded.  So  that, 
impatient  of  delay,  he  struck  out  a  new  and  daring 
project  to  alter  the  whole  face  of  things  at  once. 
With  this  view  lie  planned  the  famous  scheme  of  re 
building  the  TEMPLE  OF  JERUSALEM.  Its  final  de- 
structi6n  had  been  foretold  both  by  Jesus  and  the 
Prophets  :  and  it  was,  as  he  imagined,  reserved  for 


J   Ep.  xlix.  'Afvutiiu  «gx«i/er  ratailia;.  Fragmentum  Orationi? 
Kpistol.Tve, 
|  Greg.  Na?5.  i.  Orat.  cont.  Jul.     Sozom.  1.  \\  c.  16. 

this 


Chap.  III.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.         59 

this  favourite  of  the  Gods  *,  to  give  the  lye  to  their 
predictions. 

He  had  before  (in  pursuance  of  his  general  scheme 
of  opposing  Revelation  to  itself,  by  setting  one  sect 
against  another)  written  to  the  body  or  community  of 
the  Jews  t,  in  which  he  assured  them  of  his  protec 
tion  ;  his  concern  for  their  former  ill  usage ;  and  his 
fixed  purpose  to  screen  them  from  future  oppression, 
that  they  might  be  at  liberty,  and  in  a  disposition  to 
redouble  their  vows  for  the  prosperity  of  his  reign. 
And  concluded  with  a  promise,  that,  if  he  came  back 
victorious  from  the  Persian  war,  he  would  rebuild 
Jerusalem,  restore  them  to  their  possessions,  live  with 
them  in  the  holy  city,  and  join  with  them  in  the  wor 
ship  of  the  great  God  of  the  universe  J. 

*  His  confident,  Libanius,  compliments  him  on  his  close  com 
munion  with  the  Gods,  and  on  the  familiar  intercourse  with 
which  they  honoured  him.  This  he  speaks  of  as  a  peculiar  la- 
vour,  as  indeed  it  was,  both  to  hear  and  see  them.— Kai  p>voc  <ru 

ra;  \Ktivuv  Ivpotxa.*;  p-op^a?  ivtict'ipuv  tv^oupowv  §eufo<;t   ^  pony  <rol  tyovyq 

§tav  vififa  ax.5er«».  Legat.  ad  Julian.  This  was  doubtless  at  an 
initiation  ;  for  Libanius  informs  us,  in  another  place  quoted  above, 
that  Julian  had  been  joined  in  communion  with  Demons  in  all 
the  mysteries.  Of  one  of  these  initiations,  Gregory,  in  his  first 
oration  against  Julian,  tells  a  remarkable  story ;  that  as  he  de 
scended  into  the  initiating  cave,  he  was  terrified  with  the  visions 
That  passed  before  him  [see  the  account  of  the  mysteries  in  the 
Div.  Leg.],  which,  on  his  making  the  sign  of  the  cross,  tied  and 
disappeared.  I  think  this  not  incredible ;  for  the  sign  of  the 
cross  was  then  the  common  security  against  all  sudden  and 
unusual  terrors  ;  and  whatever  the  Demons  did,  the  priests  cer 
tainly  did  not  like  it.  How  they  turned  this  farce  to  their  advan 
tage,  in  the  present  case,  may  be  seen  in  Gregory. 

•j*     laoociuv  fa  xotjuy. 

I   KotltvQvvat    TYJV   fia.&ihsi'av    liii  roe.  xaAAtra,   xa9a7T££ 

07Tt£    %p*J    IPduTlt    l^M^y     I' VOt  KUyui     TOV   TUV  HtffU 

rw  IK  T<roAAw!>  truv    £7n6t/ /*« pewit  moc,^'   v^v  l^i 

'lipycraXvj/*,   ipo?s  xa/^aro*?  avoixo^o/^aaij  otxww,   x^  "  aiiTn  o>o'|a»  Suva, 

p9'  vpuv  ru  xpinltn,     Ep.  XXV. 

So 


60         OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  I. 

So  that,  after  this,  a  proposal  of  beginning  \vith 
the  Temple,  we  may  well  think,  would  be  eagerly 
embraced  by  them.  Till  this  was  rebuilt,  their  reli 
gion,  as  we  have  seen,  was  in  a  state  of  inanition ; 
sacrifices,  which  were  essential  to  it,  being  forbidden 
to  be  offered  in  any  other  place.  Hence  the  Jews  had 
attempted,  more  than  once,  to  restore  it,  in  defiance 
of  the  power  to  which  they  were  subject ;  first,  in  the 
reign  of  Adrian,  and  afterwards,  under  that  of  Con- 
stantine  *  :  but  reasons  of  state  defeated  the  former 
attempt ;  and  reasons  of  religion,  the  latter.  Adrian 
regarded  and  punished  it  as  a  rebellion ;  Constantino, 
as  an  impiety.  They  were  now  invited,  as  good  sub 
jects  and  faithful  worshippers  of  the  true  God,  to  se 
cond  the  Emperor's  design  in  restoring  them  to  their 
city  and  religion. 

But  here  if  any  one  should  ask,  how  it  appears  that 
Julian  had  the  purpose  we  accuse  him  of?  we  shall 
refer  him  to  the  whole  plan  of  Julian's  conduct  for  an 
answer.  For  men's  purposes  are  best  declared  by 
their  actions.  He  had  formed  a  design  to  ruin  Chris 
tianity.  He  had  played  off  the  round  of  his  machines 
to  no  purpose  ;  and  was  got,  by  due  degrees,  to  this ; 
the  only  battery  that  was  left  untried.  He  had  strove 
in  vain  to  weaken  its  influence ;  he  would  now,  as  his 
last  effort,  attack  its  pretensions :  and  his  knowledge 
of  the  two  religions  enabled  him  to  chuse  his  ground 
to  advantage.  This  is  -the  utmost  evidence  the  case 
will  afford.  For  sure  no  man  can  be  so  absurd  to 
imagine,  that  Julian  (supposing  this  to  be  his  inten 
tion)  would  proclaim  his  purpose  by  edict,  or,  what 
was  the  same  thing,  would  tell  it  at  court,  till  he  had 
seen  the  issue  of  the  event :  though  had  that  proved 
fortunate,  we  cannot  doubt  but  the  Imperial  Sophist 
*  Chrysost.  advers.  Judeeos,  passim. 

would 


Chap.  III.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.          61 

would  have  descanted  on  his  triumph  over  the  Gali 
Irean,  in  all  the  forms  of  the  chancery,  and  in  all  the 
modes  of  the  schools.  But  as  his  project  was  so 
effectually  disgraced,  it  would  be  still  more  absurd 
to  expect,  that  either  he,  or  any  of  his  band  of  sophists, 
should  be  forward  to  divulge  the  secret  to  the 
world.  Indeed,  their  shyness  in  mentioning  the 
disaster  at  Jerusalem,  when  their  subject  requires 
it,  and  the  affected  disguise  they  throw  over  it, 
when  they  cannot  avoid  it,  are,  to  me,  the  strongest 
proofs  of  some  conscious  guilt,  or  severe  mortifica 
tion. 

But  the  Christians  of  that  time  saw  no  cause  to 
defer  accusing  Julian  of  this  purpose,  till  he  himself 
should  think  fit  to  confess  it ;  and,  therefore,  with  one 
voice,  they  proclaim  it,  and  charge  it  on  him  without 
scruple  or  hesitation,  And  the  church  was  too  atten 
tive  to  his  motions  to  be  the  dupe  of  his  professions, 
in  any  thing  that  concerned  religion.  The  RUINED 
TEMPLE  was  the  trophy  of  Christ's  victory  over  his 
enemies  ;  so  that  a  project  to  restore  it,  could  not  but 
give  them  the  alarm.  They  collected,  as  we  do  now, 
(but  with  far  better  opportunities  of  so  doing),  what 
was  Julian's  real  purpose,  from  his  general  character, 
and  his  particular  behaviour  towards  them.  Nor  is 
it  unlikely  but  they  might  get  further  intelligence  from 
something  dropt  by  his  confidents,  the  Sophists,  a 
people  vain  and  talkative,  and  at  no  time  renowned 
for  secrecy. 

Thus  much  is  certain,  that  the  Christian  writers  are 
unanimous  in  what  they  say  of  Julian's  motive :  and 
seem  to  be  so  well  assured  of  its  not  being  brought  in 
question,  that  they  generally  content  themselves  with 
calling  it  indefinitely,  a  pernicious  project,  destructive 


62          OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  I. 

of  Christianity  *.  But  Sozomene  goes  further,  and 
assures  us,  that  not  only  Julian,  but  all  the  Gentiles, 
who  assisted  in  it,  pushed  it  forward  upon  that  very 
motive  ;  and  for  the  sake  of  that,  suspended  their 
aversion  to  the  Jewish  nation  '|\  For  an  aversion  they 
always  had,  and  that,  no  small  one,  if  we  may  credit 
the  best  Pagan  writers  themselves. 

However  this  is  not  to  be  forgotten,  that  let  Julian's 
motive  be  what  it  would,  as  the  successful  execution 
of  his  design  must  have  impeached  the  veracity  of  the 
prophecies,  there  was  a  necessity  for  some  interposi 
tion  to  defeat  it. 

But,  besides  the  principal  purpose  of  utterly  dis 
crediting  the  Christian  name,  there  were  other  auxiliary 
motives  to  push  Julian  on  to  a  speedy  execution.  Me 
liked  the  Jews  for  their  bloody  sacrifices,  to  which 
he  himself  was  extravagantly  given  ;  he  liked  them 
better  for  their  implacable  hatred  to  the  Christians, 
in  which  he  far  outwent  them  ;  and  he  soothed  his 
family  revenge,  in  favouring  those  whom  Constantine 
had  persecuted,  and  persecuted  for  this  very  attempt. 
To  which  we  may  add  that  which  M  arcellinus  assigns 
as  his  principal  motive,  the  glory  of  atchievirig  so  bold 

an  enterprize  J. 

/ 

*   T&©*   ETra^vjxs    KZ   TO    'la^atjyv    (fivhov    YI^I/  —  Kat    aTroxpt/Tr 
s£wa;  •ro-Xaayxalt  T-/IV  lirivoiuv  —  Greg.  Naz.  —  K.#»  KO.T  «?vAov  <& 
o  @ctcnXtv<;  Ttf?  Xptriava?  @^<x.7r\eiv  vn-uSd^uv  —  Socr.  —  At£T£A«    >£ 
ri?  tvtreGttas  —  Ka<  Ttf?  'is^aiy?  KaOwTrXtcrs  aoe.ru.  TUV  il<;   Xfurov 
XQTUV  —  Theodor.  —  "On  -nrpora|a?  <pv)<ri  'laAtavo?  roc  'lepoc-ohvpcx.  av 
[AsTaQizi,    u^    a,v    ra$    -nrepi    avruv  ^crTroltxaj  vrpopprxreu; 
Philost.  apud  Photium. 

f  Ilcivla.  $1    f 


ot  pv  yot^  WT£      tfato 
T?;  awa&js,   rwoXaCovle?  $vv»crQou  xa%p0Sv  TO  l/p^EJ 


I  Imperil  sui  memoriam  magnitudine  operum  gestiens  propa- 
gare.    Am.  Marc.  1,  iii.  c.  J. 

But 


Chap.  III.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.          6; 

But  Julian,  who  aimed  at  higher  matters  than  ob 
taining  the  good-will  of  the  Jews,  would  not  intrust 
so  important  a  design  to  their  inclinations  or  abilities. 
He  assumed  the  care  of  it  himself;  and  carried  on 
the  project  (as  far  as  it  was  carried)  under  the  Impe 
rial  authority.  He  assigned  for  this  purpose  immense 
sums  out  of  the  public  treasury.  The  superintendancy 
of  it  he  committed  to  his  bosom  friend,  Alypius  * ;  to 
whom  lie  joined,  for  his  assistant,  the  governor  of  the 
province.  Alypius  was  one  who  had  been  much 
obliged  by  Julian  |,  and  for  this  reason,  as  is  the 
nature  of  princes,  was  as  much  beloved  by  him :  but 
their  strongest  tye  was  an  equal  malice*  and  con 
genial  aversion  to  the  Christian  name ;  qualities,  doubt 
less,  for  which  Alypius  was  preferred  to  that  employ 
ment.  This  man,  in  conjunction  with  the  Jews,  and 
under  the  sanction  of  the  Imperial  authority,  entered 
upon  the  business.  They  laid  in  immense  quantities 
of  materials ;  they  assembled  vast  numbers  of  work 
men  ;  the  Jews,  of  both  sexes,  and  of  all  degrees, 
bore  a  share  in  the  labour :  they  entered  upon  the 
ruins,  cleared  away  the  rubbish,  and  opened  the  old 
foundations. 

An  account  of  this  attempt  (to  wave  the  testimony 
of  Christian  authors)  is  transmitted  to  us  by  a  con 
temporary  writer,  of  noble  extraction,  a  friend  and 
admirer  of  Julian,  and  his  companion  in  arms ;  a  man 
of  affairs,  a  lover  of  truth,  learned,  candid,  and  im- 
partial ;  qualities  which  rendered  him  the  best  historian 
of  his  time;  who,  although  neither  ignorant  of  the 
doctrines,  nor  bigotted  against  the  followers  of  our 
faith,  yet  was  strongly  attached  to  the  superstition  of 

*  The  xxixth  and  xxxth  epistles  of  Julian  are  written  to  him, 
in  the  latter  of  which  he  calls  him,  'A&Afe  wQwtrctlt  xj  ffowur&lt. 
t  See  the  xxixth  Epistle, 

his 


64         OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  I. 

his  ancestors,  and,  in  one  word,  a  Pagan  professed 
and  declared  * 

So 

*  As  there  have  been  critics  absurd  enough  to  suspect  that 
Ammianus  Marcellinus  might  be  a  Christian;  it  may  be  just 
worth  while  to  quote  a  passage  of  the  celebrated  Hadrian  Valesius, 
who,  in  few  words,  has  well  exposed  this  groundless  conceit. 
"  Petras  Pithoeus  ad  latus  Ammiani  sui  manu  sua  notavit,  eiirn 
"  Christianum  fuisse,  propterea  quod  in  libro  xxvii.  scripsit, 
"  Antistites  quosdam  provinciales,  id  est,  episcopos  Christianorum, 
"  PO.ICO  victu,  vili  veste,  &  demissis  oculis,  perpetuo  numini  vc- 
lt  risque  ejus  cultoribus  \it  parcos  commendari  $  verecundos.  An 
"  ideo  Ammianus  Christianus  habendus  eft,  quod  Deum  Christi- 
"  anorum  perpetuum  numen,  id  est,  Deumaiternum,  &  Christianos 
"  Antistites  veros  perpetui  numinis  cultorcs  appellat  ?  Quasi 
"  non  veros  perpetui  numinis  cultores  Ammianus  vocaverat  Gen- 
"  tiles  ipsos  ac  sui  similes,  quibus  quidam  etiam  Christianorum 
"  episcopi  in  provinciis  sanctitate  vitae  &  verecundia  commenda- 
"  rentur  ac  placerent.  Ita  tamen  de  Ammiano  sensit  &  Claudius 
"  Chiffletius,  cum  verbis  ejus  supra  laudatis,  turn  aliis  levissimis 
"  conjecturis  adductus.  Sed  qui  attente  legerit,  ijuae  praeter 
"  caetera  in  fine  libri  xiv  de  Adrasti  vel  Nemesi,  quae  in  libro 
"  xvi  de  Mercuric,  quae  in  libro  xxi  de  numine  Themidis,  de  Ha- 
"  ruspicina,  de  Auguriis,  vanisque  artibus  futura  praenoscendi, 
"  veteres  theologos  suos,  &  physicos,  ac  mysticos  secutus  scripsit : 
"  profectd  fateri  cogetur,  euro  cultui  Deum  addictum  ac  devotum 
"  fuisse.  Certe  de  diis  gentium  tanquam  de  suis  semper  loquitur  ; 
"  de  Christianis  sacris  mysteriisque  non  item-  NuiKjuam  Chris- 
"  tianis  se  adjungit  ;  nunquam  &  nusquam  eorum  se  numero  ad- 
"  scribit ;  &  Julianum  A.  quem  suum  herou  fecit,  hanc  praecipuo 
"  ob  causam  mihi  videtur  toties  &  tantopeie  laudare,  quod  a 
(i  religione  Christiana  ad  numinum  cultum  desciverit.  Qua  tamen 
"  erat  prudentid,  adeo  modeste  atque  sincere,  ac  nonnumquam 
"  etiam  benevolo  de  Christianis  rebus  commemorat,  ut  aliqui 
"  unum  ex  nostris  putaverint.  Nimirum,  sicuti  existimo,  vir 
"  bonus,  integer  &  sapiens  religionem  Christianam  non  sequi, 
"  tuto  se  posse  intelligebat :  eandem  principibus  suis  acceptam  & 
"  toto  fer^  orbe  Romano  diffusam  palam  damnare  non  audebat, 
"  sed  &  forsitan  religionum  diversitates  non  improbavit,  per- 
"  suasumque  habuit  (sicut  ait  De  notitia  Dei  Symmachus)  und 
"  via  non  posse  pervenire  ad  tarn  grande  secietum."  Pixf.  in 
poster.  Am.  Marc,  editionem.  To  these  a  thousand  other  proofs 
might  be  added,  I  shall  content  myself,  at  present,  with  one, 

taken 


Chap.  III.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.          65 

So  much  then  the   mo^t  sceptical  reader  must  be 
forced  to  grant.  To  doubt  of  this,  would  be  subverting 

the 

taken  from  those  very  words  which  Chifflet  lias  given  as  tha 
strongest  evidence  of  his  Christianity,  where,  speaking  of  Con- 
ftuntius,  he  says,  "  Christianum  religionem  absolutam  £.  sirn- 
"  plicem  ahili  superstitiune  confundens ;  in  qua  scrutauda  per- 
*'  nlexius  quam  compouenda  gravius,  excitavit  discidia  plurima; 
**  qua?  progressa  fusius  aluit  concertatione  verborum."  Lib.  xxi. 
c;-;p.  16.  By  these  words  (as  the  critics  observe)  are  doubtless 
meant  those  two  famous  party  badges,  the  l^vcn®*  and  o^o^jt^. 
Now  it  seems  odd,  the  historian  should  characterize  a  temper  of 
mind,  arising  from  a  dispute  of  this  kind  (which  has  rather  the 
appearance  of  a  philosophic  than  a  popular  bigotry)  by  the  name 
of  anilis  supcrstiti't.  On  a  supposition,  that  the  censurer  was  a 
Christian,  it  appears  very  odd :  but  consider  him  as  a  Pagan, 
and  nothing  is  more  natural  :  He  must  then  see  this  question, 
concerning  the  Son  of  God,  in  the  same  light  he  did  what  their 
mythology  taught  concerning  the  paternity  and  filiation  of  their 
gods ;  which  the  learned  amongst  them  ranked  in  the  first  class 
of  their  aniles  tttpcrttitianes.  It  is  true,  Ammu'.nus  thought  more 
reverently  of  the  Christian  martyrs  than  the  famous  philosophic 
tmperor  had  formerly  done  (who  called  their  virtue  a  mere  brutish 
obstinacy,  4/jAj;  -wpT*!*?,  Lib.  xi.  §3.)  for  he  says  of  them, — 
"  Qui  cieviare  a  religione  compulsi,  pertulere  cruciabiles  pcenas, 
"  cidnf  quo  gloriosam  mortem  intemcrata  fide  progrcssi  mine  Mar- 
"  tyrts  appellantur."  Lib.  xxii.  cap.  11.  But  Antoninus  was  en 
tirely  ignorant  of  the  Christian  religion:  We  have  shewn  above 
\vhat  kept  him  from  the  knowledge  of  it.  The  historian  knew  it 
>voll,  as  appears  from  the  character  he  gives  it,  of  absoluta  $• 
ftimi.-lt'x:  and  the  dying  in  defence  of  such  a  religion  could  not  but 
be,  in  his  opinion,  mor* •  g'oriosa :  he  being,  as  appears  through 
out  his  history,  a  religious  Theitt,  and  untaintinl  with  the  Naturalism 
of  Tacit  us;  for  Christianity  haul  produced  this  good  ellect  in  the 
quarter  of  its  enemies,  that  it  had  entirely  discredited  the  schools 
ot  Strato  and  Epicurus,  as  Julian  himself  informs  us.  Ammianus, 
then,  was  Pagan,  if  his  religion  may  be  gathered  from  the  re 
flections  he  makes  upon  his  fads.  It  is  true,  this  way  of  reason 
ing  cannot  be  safely  applied  to  any  but  to  an  original  Writer  of 
History.  Compilers  and  Abbreviators  of  other  men's  works  are 
not  supposed  to  have  any  sense  of  their  own ;  they  take  their 
colours,  like  the  Camelion,  from  the  various  matter  on  which 
VOL.  VIII.  F  they 


66         OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  I. 

the  very  foundations  of  human  credit;  and  it  might  as 
well  be  questioned  whether  Caesar  was  assaulted  in 
the  senate,  as  whether  Julian  attempted  to  rebuild  the 
Temple  of  Jerusalem. 

What  now  was  the  condition  of  the  church  at  this 
juncture !  and  how  were  the  fears  of  the  good  people 
alarmed!  It  had  long  combated,  and  at  length  tri 
umphed  ovei\  the  prejudices  of  the  people,  the  arts  of 
the  philosophers,  and  the  violence  of  civil  power.  It 
had  bent  the  obstinacy  of  superstition  by xthe  superior 
force  of  miracles  :  it  had  confounded  the  meretricious 
confidence  of  Grecian  Sophistry,  by  the  simple  majesty 
of  Truth ;  and  had  wearied  out  the  rage  of  tyranny, 
by  constancy  and  contempt  of  suffering.  But  it  was 
now  summoned  to  a  severer,  trial,  and  pushed  upon 
the  very  crisis  of  its  fate.  Its  enemies,  supported  by 
the  whole  power  of  the  empire,  had  brought  a  decisive 
scheme  to  its  projection  ;  a  scheme  that  was  to  reflect 
eternal  dishonour  upon  the  Oracles  of  Truth.  The 
credit  of  God's  servants,  the  authority  of  his  word,  and 
the  very  pretensions  of  revelation,  were  ail  vitally  in 
terested  in  the  event.  The  long  struggle  between 
SUPERSTITION  and  RELIGION  was  now  to  be  finally 

decided. 

th«y  feed;  and,  with  the  facts,  often  epitomize  the  sentiments 
of  their  originals.  George  Elmacine,  an  Eastern  Christian,  whose, 
chronicle  of  the  Saracens  is  translated  from  the  Arabic  by  Erpe- 
nius  into  Latin,  and  by  Vattier  into  French,  is  so  regularly 
changeable  in  this  respect,  that  Vattier  very  justly  says  of  him, 
"  Qu.md  il  paile  de  quelque  chose  concernant  la  religion  de 
"  Mahomet,  on  diroit  qu'il  est  Mahometan :  Quand  il  parle  des 
"  Catholiques,  qu'il  est  Cathohque  :  Quand  il  p  trie  dcs  Jacobites, 
"  de  mesme."  The  translator's  reflection  upon  it  is  extraordinary, 
«  Gnmd  perfection,  a  mon  advis,  pour  un  historien :  pour  uii 
"  historien  Chrestir.n,  je  n'en  pa;le  point."  Everyone  sees  the 
ridicule.  However  the  maxim  he  had  in  view  is  a  good  one, 
That  the  historian  should  not  appear  to  be  of  any  sect  or  party. 
But  this  is  very  different  from  being  of  all  in  their  turns. 


Chap.  III.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.         C; 

decided.  The  God  of  the  Christians  was  publicly 
challenged  :  his  power  was  defied  to  protect  his  Dis 
pensation  against  this  impending  stroke.  Destitute  of 
all  human  aid,  their  only  reliance  was  on  heaven. 
And  no  believer,  but  must  conclude,  that  God  would 
indeed  interpose  to  vindicate  the  character  of  his  Son  : 
no  man,  but  must  confess,  that  to  support  a  Religion 
like  this,  was  an  occasion  worthy  the  interposition  of 
the  Lord  of  all  things. 

o 

Well,  the  impious  attack  was  'made  ;  and  the  ex 

pected   protection  afforded  *.     The  same  great  and 

impartial  historian,  who  acquaints  us  with  the  attempt, 

informs  us  likewise  of  the  defeat  of  it.     His  account 

is  in  these  words:  "  Julian  (having  been  already  thrice 

c  consul)  taking  Sallust,  prefect  of  the  several  Gauls, 

for  his  colleague,  entered  a  fourth  time  on  this  high 

magistracy.     It  appeared  strange  to  see  a  private 

'  man   associated   with   Augustus:    a  thing,    which, 

c  since  the  consulate  of  Dioclesian  and  Aristobulus, 

'  history  afforded  no  example  of.     And  although  his 

'  sensibility  of  the  many  and  great  events,  which  this 

year  was  likely  to  produce,  made  him  very  anxious 

'  for  the  future,  yet  he  both  pushed  on  the  various 

'  and  complicated  preparatives    for  this  expedition 

c  with  the  utmost  application,  and,  having  an  eye  in 

'  every  quarter,  and    being  desirous   to  eternize   his 

£  reign  by  the  greatness  of  his  atchievements,  he  pro- 

::  jected  to  rebuild,  at  an  immense  expense,  the  proud 

c  and  magnificent  temple  of  Jerusalem  ;  which  (after 

'  many  combats,  attended  with  much  bloodshed  on 


t<;  rov  >uo»,  aAAa  TO 


Socrat.  Uist.  Eccl.  lib.  iii.  cap.  20. 

F    2  "   both 


68          OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  I. 

"  both  sides,  daring  the  siege  by  Yespathn)  was, 
"  with  great  difficulty,  taken  and  destroyed  by  Titus. 
"  He  committed  the  conduct  of  this  affair  to  ALYPJUS 
"  of  Antioch,  who  formerly  had  been  lieutenant  in 
"  Britain.  When,  therefore,  this  "Aiypius  had  set 
"  himself  to  the  vigorous  execution  of  his  charge,  in 
*.*  wliich  he  had  all  the  assistance  that  the  governor 
"  of  the  province  could  allord  him,  horrible  halls  of 
"  fire,  breaking  out  near  the  foundations,  with  ire- 
if  quent  and  reiterated  attacks,  rendered  the  place, 
"  from  time  to  time,  inaccessible  to  the  scorched  and 
"  blasted  workmen  ;  and  the  victorious  element  cors- 
"  tinning,  in  this  manner,  obstinately  and  resolutely 
"  bent,  as  it  were,  to  drive  them  to  a  distance,  Aiypius 
"  thought  best  to  give  over  the  enterprise  *." 

Thus  did  the  vigilance  of  Providence  not  only  vin 
dicate  the  honour  of  our  holy  faith  in  ihe  open  view  of 
all  men,  but,  in  its  goodness,  secured  the  memory  of 
this  impious  attempt  by  the  testimony  of  the  most  un 
exceptionable  witness.  For  were  infidelity  itself,  when 

*  Julianus  jam  ter  consul  adsclto  in  collegium  trabea?  Sul- 
lustio,  praefecto  per  Gallias,  quater  ipse  amplissimum  inierat 
ma^i  stratum  :  &  videbatur  no v urn,  adjwnctum  e^se  Auj_usto  pri- 
vatum,  quod  post  Dioclesianum  &  Aristobulum  nullus  meminerat 
gestum.  Et  licet  aCcidentium  varietatem  soilicita  mente  pneci* 
picris,  multiplicalos  expeditionis  apparatis  flagrunti  studio  pe- 
lurneret :  dili^entiam  tnmen  ulique  diviri«  ns,  impeniquc  sui  me- 
monum  nut^nitudine  operum  gestiens  propagare,  anibitiosum 
quondam  apud  liieiosolymam  templum,  quod  post  multa  &  in- 
temeciva  certamma,  obsidente  Vespasianoi  postcaque  Tito,  a^re 
est  exj  u^natum,  instaurarc  sumptibus  cogitabat  immodicis :  ne- 
gotiumque  m-dturandnm  Alypio  dederat  Antiochensi,  qui  <^lim 
Sritaimias  curaverat  pro  prsefectis.  Cum  itaque  rei  idem  fortiter 
instaret  Aiypius,  juvaretque  provinciae  Rector,  metut-ndi  globi 
flammarum  prope  fundamenta  crebris  assukibus  erumpeutes,  ie- 
cere  locum  exustis  aliquaties  operantibus  inaccessum  :  hocque 
jnf.d;)  elemento  destinatius  repeliente,  cessavit  iuceptum.  Amm. 
Ware.  lib.  xxiii,  cap.  i. 

it 


Chap.  HI.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.          69 

it  would  evade  the  force  of  evidence,  to  prescribe 
what  qualities  it  expected  in  a  faultless  testimony,  it 
could  invent  none  but  what  might  be  found  in  the  his 
torian  here  produced.  Me  was  a  Pagan,  and  so  not 
prejudiced  in  favour  of  Christianity :  He  was  a  de 
pendent,  a  follower,  and  a  profound  admirer  of  Ju 
lian,  and  so  not  inclined  to  report  any  thing  to  his  dis 
honour:  He  was  a  lover  of  truth,  and  so  would  not 
relate  what  he  knew,  or  but  suspected,  to  be  ialse : 
He  had  great  sense,  improved  by  the  study  of  philo 
sophy  and  knowledge  of  the  world,  and  so  would  not 
easily  suffer  himself  to  be  deceived  :  he  was  not  only 
contemporary  to  the  fact;  but,  at  the  time  it  happened, 
resident  near  the  place :  lie  recorded  the  event  not 
on  its  rirst  report,  when,  in  the  relation  of  journaiary 
occurrences,  much  falsehood  blends  itsalf  with  truth; 
but  after  time  and  inquiry,  which  separates  this  impure 
mixture,  had  confirmed  what  really  happened  :  He 
related  it  not  as  an  uncertain  report  or  hearsay,  with 
diffidence ;  but  as  a  notorious  fact,  at  that  time,  no 
more  question  'd  in  Asia,  than  the  project  and  success 
'of  the  Persian  expedition  :  He  inserted  it  not  for  any 
partial  purpose  in  support  or  confutation  of  any 
sys'em  ;  in  defence  or  discredit  of  any  character :  he 
delivered  it  in  no  cursory  or  transient  manner,  nor  in 
a  loose  or  private  memoir;  but  gravely  and  deliberate 
ly,  as  the  natural  and  necessary  part  of  a  composition 
the  most  useful  and  important,  a  general  history  of 
the  empire;  on  the  complete  performance  of  which 
the  author  was  so  intent,  that  he  exchanged  a  court 
life,  for  one  of  study  and  contemplation ;  and  chose 
Rome,  the  gre:it  repository  of  the  proper  materials, 
for  the  place  of  his  retirement. 


70         OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  I. 

CHAP.  IV. 

BUT  the  evidence, given  by  the  adversaries  of  our 
faith  to  the  truth  of  this  illustrious  miracle  does  not 
rest  upon  a  single  witness :  I  propose  to  shew,  that 
Libanius,  the  friend  and  favourite  of  Julian,  and  even 
JULIAN  himself,  whose  impiety  brought  this  disgrace 
upon  Paganism,  have  botli  confessed  the  hand  by  which 
he  was  overcome ;  though  with  that  obscurity,  and  con 
fusion  of  tongue,  which  always  attends  the  graceless 
shame  of  impenitent  offenders. 

And  I  shall  be  the  fuller  in  weighing  the  value  of 
their  testimony,  as  it  hath  hitherto,  I  think,  been  en 
tirely  overlooked,  and,  by  reason  of  an  affected  dis 
guise,  passed  the  critics  unobserved. 

Libanius,  in  the  History  of  his  own  Life,  speaking 
of  the  fate  of  Julian,  says,  "The  Persians,  indeed, 
"  were  informed  by  a  deserter,  of  the  state  to  which 
"  fortune  had  now  reduced  our  affairs:  but  not  a 

1  single  man  *  amongst  us  at  Antioch,  knew  any 
"  thing  of  the  matter.  It  is  true,  the  calamity  seemed 

1  to  have  been  foretold  by  certain  earthquakes  in 
"  Palestine,  which  overthrew  some  cities,  and  da- 
"  maged  others.  For  it  appeared  to  us,  as  if  God 
<l  had  presignified  some  great  event  by  these  dis- 

e  asters :    and,  while  we  were  making  our  vows  for 

"  averting  the  evil  we  apprehended,  came  a   mes- 

*  'Atyunuv  pit  w^i? — The  words  are  remarkable,  and,  I  sus 
pect,  emphatical.  It  looks  as  if  he  used  them  to  discredit  a  com 
mon  report  then  in  the  mouths  of  the  people,  and  which  hath 
since  figured  in  ecclesiastical  history,  to  this  effect,  "  That 
Libanius,  ahout  this  time,  meeting  a  certain  schoolmaster  in 
Antioch,  asked  him,  in  derision,  What  the  carpenter's  son  was 
doing?  To  which  the  other  replied,  Making  a  coffin  for  your 
hero/' 

"  senger, 


Chap.  IV.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.        7* 

"  senger,  Sec  *."  Again,  in  his  funeral  oration  on 
Julians  death,  he  says,  "  The  temple  of  Apollo  con- 
"  sumed  by  fire,  presaged  this  misfortune  —  as  did 
"  those  earthquakes  which  shook  all  the  land,  the  mes- 
"  senders,  as  it  were,  of  the  following  disorders  and 
<c  contusion  f."  It  can  admit  no  doubt  but  that  the 
earthquakes  spoken  of  in  both  passages,  and  said  to 
have  happened  before  the  death  of  Julian,  are  the  same. 
1\\e  first  says  they  were  in  Palestine;  the  second 
fixes  them  to  the  time  of  burning  the  temple  at  Daphne  : 
all  which  laid  together  brings  us  direcily  to  the 
earthquake  at  Jerusalem.  And  though,  either  out  of 
malice,  imperfect  information,  or  wrong  conception 
of  what  he  heard,  he  lessens  the  event  by  the  omission 
of  one  circumstance,  and  aggravates  it  by  the  inven 
tion  of  others,  yet  the  characteristic  marks  of  time 
and  place,  which  he  has  left  to  it,  prevent  his  putting 
the  change  upon  us,  if  that  was  his  intention,  as  it 
seems  to  have  been,  if  we  reflect,  that  the  circum 
stance  of  destroying  cities,  and  shaking  the  whole 
empire,  belong  to  an  earthquake  which  happened  about 
a  year  and  half  after  Julian's  death  J,  and  of  which 
he  was  well  apprised,  as  appears  by  his  oration  to 
avenge  the  death  of  Julian,  addressed  to  Theodosius  : 

ivog      otQeTv   vnvi%e 


nv%evt     v  oru 
rots       jlO^MWfj  ctv^u'jrav  pe*  WEI?.    SSKT/AO*  $t  iy\- 


T«  xaxa  pgrtfto**   viohtuv  ru*  Iv  T»J 
'  rcc<;  $t   oAa?  KMIMMMNff*  iv 

,^se,lvtn>.   ivxppf.wv  ^£  py  ra,  oJlct  oo|a£fix, 
Tar»  »j»    nut  'ATroXXwv®'   tsryp*    SUTTOI  nu^tvoq  —  raro 


J  Kal.  Aug.  confeule  Valent.niano  primurn  cum  fratre  hor- 
rendi  tcrrores  per  ornnern  orbis  ambitum  grassati  sunt  subiti.—  - 
concutitur  ornnis  terreni  STABILITAS  ponderis,  MAREque  dis~ 
pulsum  ictro  fluctibus  evolutis  abscessit.  —  innumera  quaedain  in 
civitatibus  &  ubi  repertu  sunt  xdificia  compluuarunt,  —  Am.  Marc. 
L  xx  vi.  c.  10. 

F  4  in 


72        OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  L 

in  which  he  tells  the  emperor,  the  Gods  were  angry 
that  Julian's  death  had  not  been  hitherto  avenged  : 
and  had  given  evident  marks  of  their  displeasure  by 
the  frequent  slaughters  of  the  Roman  people  ;  and  a 
dreadful  earthquake,  which  shook'both  land  and  sea*. 
Hitherto  Libanius,  ,  notwithstanding  the  disguisements 
taken  notice  of^above,  hath  reasonably  vvell  distin 
guished  these  t\vo  different  earthquakes,  the  one  in 
Palestine,  and  the  other  over  all  the  Roman  empire; 
by  expressly  affirming,  that  the  first  happened  bejbr.e 
the  death  of  Julian  ;  and  the  second,  some  time 
after.  Yet,  in  another  place,  in  his  oration  on  the 
death  of  Julian,  he  seems  totally  to  have  confounded 
them  with  one'another  f. 

But  the  carelessness  or  the  perversity  of  the  \vriters 
of  these  times,  whether  Christians  or  Pagans,  is 
equally  to  be  lamented.  We  have  observed  the  arts 
Libanius  employs  to  hide  the  earthquake  at  Jeru 
salem,  and  seen  with  what  pomp  he  ascribes  the  dis 
aster  occasioned  by  that,  which  happened  under  the 
iirst  consulate  of  Valentinian  and  his  brother,  to  the 
anger  of  the  gods  for  the  unavenged  murder  of  Julian. 
On  which  account,  I  suppose,  it  is,  that  Sozomene 
affirms,  that  this  earthquake  happened  in  the  time  of 
Julian  :£,  and  makes  it  one  of  the  marks  of  God's 
displeasure  at  his  apostasy.  So  again  because  Li- 


*   * 


O 


&'  >}*    o?    /ixEx    aTTfiOiojc-xf  V,    o»    02    tfAsXAox.    o    <£<>£©•'    FHN    ft    tffm    xj 
OAAATTAN.  C.  1O. 
•f  *H   per  ye  -yri, 


,    &C. 

a^a  •nra>1fl6  tot  X%ovor  ravly?}  ry<;  f3ttp^eia.<;  ot,ya,t>a.)tlu» 
•    Ssoj    itpxinClo  —  T??    TE    yu,g     yr,<; 


cryjipa.   TW 

w<rt  yiyon  &*$&',  &c.  Lib.  vi.  C.  2. 

banius 


Chap.  IV.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.         73 

banius  had  with  excessive  impudence  accused  the 
Christians  of  the  death  of  Julian,  Gregory  Naz.  to  be 
even  with  him,  charges  Julian  with  the  murder  of 
Constautius.  Each,  I  dare  say,  with  equal  justice  ; 
both,  I  am  well  satisfied,  with  the  same  spirit. 

I  come  now  to  the  testimony  of  Julian.  His 
letter  to  the  community  of  the  Jews  has  been  already 
mentioned.  From  that  part  of  it,  wherein  he  informs 
them  how  he  had  punished  such  as  had  given  their 
people  unjust  vexation,  it  appears  to  have  been  written 
early  in  his  reign;  on  his  first  coming  to  Constanti 
nople,  when  lie  purged  the  city  and  palace  of  spies, 
informers,  and  the  like  pests  of  a  corrupted  court  *. 
The  principal  design  of  it  is  to  acquaint  them  with 

his 

*  Sozomcne    takes  notice    of  this   letter,    xj    9M 


?.  Notwithstanding  which,  those  who  have 
conveyed  it  down  to  us  have  stampt  this  mark  of  doubt  arid 
suspicion  on  the  face  of  it,  el  yi^<r»©*.  Without  question,  they 
believed  it  to  he  forged  hy  the  Jews.  The  writer  of  it  styles 
the  injuries  offered  to  the  Jews,  impious  ;  as  if  they  were  a  holy 

nation  —  Kcu  TO  T^?  Tota^r*??  ^Wp^aia?  acsffvpac,  iflctvQa  ioi<xer«^r,» 
r5jra»  :  tells  them  that  he  had  precipitated  the  delators  into 
horrible  dungeons  with  his  own  hands,  w?  pit  lyu  iv  Xfffif  e^ai? 
it;  /SoG^ov  u<7a<;  uAtca,:  calls  the  patriarch  brother,  TO» 
l^ta-^uroilot  ccra\ta^»"  :  anc^  proniises,  that  when 
he  had  restored  their  city,  he  would  come  thither,  and  live  and 
worship  with  them.  All  these  particular?,  the  critics  conceived 
to  smell  strongly  of  imposture. 

But  what  probably  most  confirmed  their  suspicions,  was  the 
vse  the  Jews  made  of  it,  to  evade  a  miracle  that  so  much 
humbled  them  :  We  see  it  only  promises  their  restoration  after 
his  Persian  expedition.  And  one  K.  David  Cans,  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  in  the  second  part  of  his  book,  called  Zamach,  quoted 
by  Wagenseilius,  in  his  Tela  ignea  Satana?,  p.  231.  appear^  to 
have  made  this  very  use  of  it.  "  Julianus  C'ycsar  praecepit  ut 
*'  restitueretur  templum  sanctissimum,  magno  cum  decore  & 
"  pulchritudine,  huicque  rei  ipse  sumtus  suppeditavit.  Verum 

"  coelitus 


74         OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  L 

his  purpose  to  rebuild  their  city,  on  his  return  from 
the  Persian   war.     And  without  doubt  he  then  in 
tended 

"  ccelitus  impedimentum  injectum   est   ne   perficeretur   fabrica, 
"  NAM  Caesar  ia  bello  Persico  periit." 

But  what  Greg.  Nazianzen,  in  his  second  Invective,  tells  us 
of  the  conference  that  followed  this  letter,  plainly  shews  it  to  be 
genuine.  Julian,  he  says,  assured  the  leaders  of  the  Jews, 
he  had  discovered,  from  their  sacred  books,  that  the  time  of 
their  restoration  was  at  hand.  iwAtia^uv  re  $J0«  ex. 
*yro<V  &'&huv  x^  atvroppviTUv,  u$  vvv  oivToTs  oinwi'ipivw  tin 
li;  rw  exvluv  xj  i/euv  «v«^£^acr6ai,  x^  ruv  vrotl^uv  TO  xgdr 
xj  a9rox£y9r1o/*£i/^  fyi/oia?  «Gtf.a<r//,al»  rvtv  tTrtvvmv. — It  is  not  a  mere 
curiosity  to  inquire,  what  prophecy  it  was,  that  Julian  per 
verted  ;  because  it  tends  ,to  confirm  the  truth  of  Nazianzen's 
relation.  I  have  sometimes  thought  it  might  possibly  be  the 
words  of  the  Septuagint,  in  Dan.  ix.  27.  T£vf\i\iia.  ^ofi^era*  im 
TW  ipvuo-w.  The  ambiguity  of  which  Julian  took  the  advantage 
of  (against  Hellenistic  Jews,  who,  it  is  probable,  knew  no  more 
of  the  original  than  himself)  as  signifying,  the  tribute  shall  be 
given  to  the  desolate,  instead  of,  the  consummation  shall  be  poured 
upon  the  desolate.  For  the  letter  in  que  tion  tells  us,  he  had 
remitted  their  tribute ;  and  by  so  doing,  we  see,  was  for  passing 
himself  upon  them  for  a  kind  of  second  Cyrus. 

All  this  (that  is  to  say,  the  authenticity  of  the  letter,  the 
truth  of  Nazianzen's  relation,  and  this  conjecture  concerning 
.  the  prophecy  Julian  pretended  to  go  upon)  seems  greatly  to  be 
supported  by  what  the  Christian  writers  say  of  the  behaviour 
of  the  Jews  while  the  project  was  in  agitation.  Socrates  assures 
us,  that  they  menaced  the  Christians,  and  threatened  to  treat 
them  as  they  themselves  had  been  treated  by  the  Romans.  L.  iii. 
c.  2O. — po&py?  <ii  To*V  Xfij-iayoK  iiiriJfcMknwu  ioe1«(i  r/A#£o*£t;o>lo 
«ri  xar*  avTvv,  iTraTretXfc'J'lEs  Tcxrayra  i&owctw,  oca,  ctvTQk  /sr*£«.  PapouM 
«raXa»  czrsTrovQacn.  And  Rutinus  s.tys,  they  were  as  rain  as  if 
they  had  had  a  prophet  of  their  own  at  their  head.  And  this  they 
might  well  be,  when  they  had  an  emperor  who  promised  to 
live  and  worship  with  them,  and  set  himseli  up  for  the  restorer 
foretold  by  their  prophets. 

There  is  only  one  thing  in  the  letter,  which  remains  to  be 
accounted  for;  and  that  is,  the  strange  boast  of  his  personal 
achievement,  in  thrusting  down  the  delators  into  dungeons  with 
his  ovn  hands;  in  which  the  Imperial  character  is  so  little 

preserved, 


Chap.  IV.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.        75 

tended  to  defer  the  re-establishment  of  the  Jewish 
religion  till  that  war  was  at  an  end.  But  his  various 
attacks  upon  Christianity  not  succeeding  to  his  hopes, 
he  grew  enraged  by  his  defeat,  and  resolved  to  put 
this  last  effort  of  his  malice  in  immediate  execution. 

We  may  be  assured,  this  letter  had  brought  the 
principal  Jews,  from  all  quarters  of  the  world,  to 
court.  The  manner  in  which  he  appeared  to  interest 
himself  in  their  quarrel,  could  not  but  persuade  them, 
that  the  apostate  from  Christianity  was  become  more 
than  half  a  proselyte  to  Judaism.  While  he,  on  his 
part,  flattered  himself,  that  those  who  adhered  so 
obstinately  to  bloody  sacrifices  might  be  easily  cajoled 
into  idolatry. 

These,  apparently,  were  the  men,  then  residing  at 
court,  and  waiting  for  his  favours,  whom,  Chrysos- 
tome  and  Gregory  Nazianzen  tell  us,  he  called 
together,  to  inquire,  Why  they  did  not  offer  sacri 
fices  as  the  law  directed ;  at.  a  time  when  the  empire 
stood  so  much  in  need  of  the  divine  protection,  and 
the  emperor  was  so  well  disposed  to  implore  it  from 
all  quarters.  They  replied,  that  it  was  not  lawful 
to  sacrifice  but  in  the  temple  of  Jerusalem  only.  This 
was  what  He  would  be  at :  so  he  took  the  advantage 

o 

of  their  answer,  to  facilitate  his  secret  purpose; 
which  was  to  give  the  lie  at  once  to  all  the  prophets 
and  messengers  of  God. 

For 

preserved,  that  the  learned  M.  de  la  Bleterie  is  almost  tempted, 
on  this  single  circumstance,  to  give  up  the  letter  for  a  forgery. 
But  he  here  forgets  what  he  himself  had  before  mentioned  of 
the  strange  escapes  of  this  fantastic  monarch.  "  Saint  Gregoire 
"  Nazianze  dit,  que  Julien  cJiassoit  a  coups  de  pie  &  de  poing 
"  de  pauvres  gens  qui  venoient  lui  demander  des  graces.  Ces 
"  pauvres  gens  (says  M.  de  la  Bleterie)  pouvoient  bien  etre  des 
"  DELATEURS."  Vie  de  Julien,  p.  314.  2d  edit. 


76        OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  I. 

For  we  are  by  no  means  to  suppose  him  so  ignorant 
as  not  to  kno.v  what  the  law  in  this  case  required. 
That  very  letter  to  the  community  plainly  insinuates 
he  did  know  it.  His  acquaintance  with  Scripture 
must  have  informed  him  of  it  :  for  if  (.hero  was  eny 
part  to  which  he  would  give  greater  attention  than  the 
rest,  it  was  the  ritual  of  sacrifices,  a  species  of 
worship,  to  which  he  was  inordinately  addicted.  Be 
sides,  in  his  discourse  against  the  Christian  Religion, 
he  occasionally,  but  in  express  words,  declares,  that 
it  was  of  the  nature  of  the  Mosaic  Law,  to  offer  sa 
crifices  at  Jerusalem  only*.  But  as  this  discourse 
was  written  some  time  after  the  consultation  in  question, 
I  would  lay  the  less  weight  upon  it. 

However,  no  one.  I  think,  can  doubt,  but  that 
the  whole  conference  was  a  farce;  that  Julian  only 
wanted  a  screen  for  his  impiety;  and  that  the  pre 
tence  of  procuring  the  means  of  their  intercession  with 
the  God  of  the  universe,  for  the  prosperity  of  the 
empire,  was  no  other  than  a  decent  cover  for  putting 
this  last  effort  of  his  malice  in  present  execution. 
The  Jews  eagerly  fell  in  with  his  project;  and  the 
issue  was  as  we  have  related  it. 

This  great  event  happened  in  the  beginning  of  the 
year  CCCLXIIT,  as  appears  from  the  words  of  Am- 
mianus  MarcclHnus,  quoted  above.  Julian,  who  then 
wintered  at  Antioch,  was  preparing  for  his  Persian 
expedition  ;  for  which  he  did  not  set  out  till  the 
month  of  March.  So  unexpected  a  traverse,  we  must 
suppose,  would  be  immediately  carried  to  himf,  with 
all  tiie  circumstances  that  attended  it:  Alypius  could 


a  SiJ/Ie  ;  -  apud  Cyril,  p.  306.  Spanh.  ed, 

OtVTX  Y)KZCt  /Aty  'l«&t«»»(.       TllCod.  1.  Hi.  C,  2O. 

not 


Chap.  IV.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.         77 

not  but  assure  him,  that  the  repeated  eruptions 
made  it  impracticable  to  persist  in  the  attempt;  and 
that  the  consumption  of  the  materials  utterly  disabled 
his  agents  from  speedily  renewing  it.  What  his  first 
sentiments  were,  on  this  occasion,  we  have  no  certain 
or  p  t;;i<'!;Lir  account:  how  he  resented  the  disgrace 
in  his  cooler  hours,  1  am  now  going  to  shew. 

There  is,  amongst  the  writings  of  Julian,  a  notable 
fragment  of  an  oration,  or  epistle,  call  it  which  you 
will,  first  given  us  by  Petavius,  wherein  the  emperor, 
with  great  abilities  and  learning,  prescribes  and  marks 
out  a  method  to  reform  Paganism,  and  set  it  up  for 
a  rival  to  the  Gospel,  in  all  the  plausible  pretences 
to  piety  and  virtue.  This,  and  his  books  against 
the  Christian  Religion,  were  the  two  master  wheels 
of  the  same  machine:  the  one  was  to  degrade  Chris 
tianity,  the,  other  to  advance  superstition  :  wnd  there 
fore  it  is  no  wonder  we  find  them  written  at  the  same 
time.  St.  Jerom  expressly  says*",  that  the  bo-yks 
against  our  holy  faifn  were  composed  during  the 
Persian  expedition.  Libanius,  indeed,  intimates,  they 
were  written  in  his  winter  quarters  at  Antioch.  Their 

*  Ep.  Ixxxiii.  ad  magnum  oratorein.  And  hV  historian  tells 
us,  that,  even  to  the  last,  while  harassed  with  famine  and 
ti.e  Persian  cavalry,  he  continued  to  employ  the  silent  hours  of 
the  night,  in  his  usu.il  sophistic  exercises  of  reading  and  com 
posing:  which  Ammianns,  to  do  his  master  honour,  says,  was 
iu  imitation  of  Julius  Cresar. — Ipse  autem  sal  sollieitam  sus- 
pensamque  quietem  paulisper  protractu?,  cum  somno  (ut  solrbat) 
cltip'.ilso,  ad  amiulationem  Caesaris  Julii  qusedam  sub  pellibus 
scribens,_  obscuro  tioctis,  altittid.ne  stnsus  omisdam  philosophi 
teneretur,  vidit  squalidius,  ut  confessus  est  proximis,  speciem 
illam  genii  publici,  &c.  lib.  xxv.  c.  -2.  And  it  is  not  improbable 
but  his  favourite  Libanius  had  those  very  writings  in  his  eye, 
when  he  said  that  the  life  of  Itis  mnster,  Julian,  was  then  equally 
divided  between  his  cares  for  religion  and  the  state.  Olrcx;  yot% 
if i  o  p.if't<rot,$  otLre  tiiv  ftiQ*  f'i$  TS  TCHC  v<x\f>  TUV  four  ^W/\«?»  JK  TE  Totf 
<ar:£  /?a>^4Jj  Aia^iC*?,  I/c  ulcisc.  Julian,  liefC. 

accounts 


78        OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  I. 

accounts  may  be  easily  reconciled,  in  supposing  that 
this  part  was  planned  and  begun  before  his  remove. 
However,  the  other  part,  the  directions  for  the  re 
formation  of  Paganism,  was  as  late  as  the  Persian 
expedition  ;  for  this,  we  have  the  author's  own  word, 
where,  speaking  of  the  customary  honours  paid  to 
the  Gods,  he  says  —  "  which  not  THREE  years,  nor 
"  three  thousand  have  established  :  but  all  past  ages, 
"  amongst  all  the  nations  upon  earth  *."  By  the  three 
years  he  evidently  alludes  to  his  restoration  of  ido 
latry;  which,  at  any  time  sooner  than  the  Persian 
expedition,  was  not  intitled  to  so  high  a  date.  For  he 
was  first  saluted  Augustus  in  the  spring  of  the  year 
CCCLX,  and  the  Persian  expedition  was  in  the 
spring  cecLxni. 

At  this  time,  therefore,  he  had  well  digested  his 
defeat  at  Jerusalem.  What  effects  it  left  upon  his 
temper,  the  following  passage  of  this  fragment  will 
inform  us  ;  where,  after  having  justified  the  Gods  for 
suffering  their  temples,  images,  and  most  devout  wor 
shippers  to  be  injuriously  treated,  he  goes  on  thus  :  — 
"  Let  no  man,  therefore,  because  he  hath  seen  or 
"  heard  of  those  who  have  insulted  their  images  and 
"  Temples,  entertain  any  doubts  concerning  their 
"  supcrintendency.  For  this  reason  too,  let  them  not 
"  think  to  delude  us  with  their  sophistry,  nor  terrify 
"  us  with  the  cry  of  Providence.  For,  the  prophets 
*'  amongst  the  Jews,  who  so  much  upbraid  us  with 
(<  these  disasters,  what  will  they  say  to  their  own 
11  temple  ?  that  temple  of  theirs,  which  has  been  now 
ft  a  third  time  destroyed  f,  and  is  not  raised  again 

"to 


n   emotvlol 
oiiuv  Iv  '^roi<r^  roT?  TTJ?  yrjg  eQvto-u>.      p.  294.  Spanh.  Ld. 

f  The  learned  J.  A.  Fubricius   thinks  thi»  r^rw  «**lgaflrsYl&« 

includes 


Chap.  IV.]      REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.         79 

"  to  this  day.  I  say  not  this  to  upbraid  them ;  for 
"  I  myself,  after  so  long  a  desolation,  would  have 
"  rebuilt  it*,  in  honour  of  the  God  which  was  there 
"  worshipped.  But  I  now  mention  it  only  as  I  was 
"  milling  to  shew,  that  nothing  human  is  exempt 
<c  from  the  injuries  of  time.  As  to  the  prophets, 
"  who  write  in  this  manner,  they  merely  rave,  arid 
"  cant  to  the  capacities  of  dreaming  old  women.  Not 
"  that  I  would  insinuate,  the  God  the}  worship  is 
"  not  great  and  mighty :  but  this  I  say,  he  hath  no 
"  good  prophets,  nor  interpreters  of  his  will,  amongst 

"  them. 

includes  the  defeat  of  Julian's  attempt  to  rebuild  the  temple ; 
and  so,  in  his  Lux  Evangelii,  he  brings  it  to  prove  Julian's  own 
acknowledgement  of  the  miracle  :  in  which  he  has  been  followed 
]by  M.  de  la  Bleterie  and  others.  But  1,  Defeating  an  attempt 
to  rebuild,  cannot,  in  any  known  figure  of  speech,  be  called 
the  overthrow  of  a  building.  2.  'Eyfipopevy  ^e  a^e  ȣv  can  never 
be  said  of  a  building  destroyed  but  two  months  before.  In  a 
word,  Fabricius  is  mistaken ;  the  three  subversions  here  meant, 
were — that  by  the  Assyrians, — that  by  Herod,  the  son  of  An- 
tipater, — and  that  by  Vespasian.  And  though  Herod's  demo 
lition  of  it  was  only  in  order  to  rebuild  it  more  magnificently, 
yet  it  was  such  a  destruction  as  Julian  might  properly  enough 
urge  for  the  support  of  his  argument,  against  an  objection, 
that  supposed  stability  and  duration  amongst  the  qualities  to 
be  looked  for  in  the  domicile  of  the  true  God ;  which  the  Pagan 
temples  not  having,  were  concluded  to  belong  to  the  false. — Or 
it  may  possibly  be,  that,  instead  of  Herod's  demolition,  he 
might  allude  to  the  profanation  of  it  by  Antiochus,  as  a 
learned  friend  suggests.  But  what  is  decisive  against  Fabricius's 
interpretation  is  this:  Julian  in  one  and  the  same  paragraph 
could  never  call  his  project  a  destiuction  of  the  temple,  and  an 
attempt  to  rebuild  it. 

*  offyt  T6<7«roK  vrsgov  %p6fOH;  stvctryo'cicQ&i  OHVW^W  ad/tot — I  do 
not  urge  this  Independent  declaration  (which  implies  some 
hindrance  of  his  purpose)  against  the  unbelievers,  because  they 
will  say,  "  the  hindrance  appears  to  have  been  the  Persian  ex- 
?'  pedition  ;  Julian  having  told  the  Jews,  in  his  Letter  still  extant, 
?'  that  he  would  rebuild  their  temple  when  he  had  ended 
ff  war,  which  implies  his  inability  of  doing  it  before." 


8o        OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book.  I. 

"  them.  The  reason  is,  they  never  applied  tliem- 
"  selves  to  purge  and  purify  the  mind  in  the  circle  of 
"  human  science,  nor  tried  to  open  their  eyes  which 
€(  ignorance  had  shut  up,  nor  strove  to  drive  away 
"  the  darkness  in  which  they  lay  involved  :  but  are 
"  as  men,  who  through  mists  or  clouds  see  the  great 
"  light  of  heaven  *  neither  clearly  nor  distinctly,  and 
"  mistake  that  ethereal  splendor  for  an  impure  tcr- 
"  res  trial  fire  ;  and,  stark  blind  to  all  nature  working 
<c  round  them,  roar  out  with  frantic  vehemence,  Fear 
"  and  tremble,  ye  inhabitants  of  earth!  Fire,  light- 
"  ning,  the  sword,  darts,  death,  and  all  the  frightful 
i{  words  that  express  that  one  destructive  property  of 
"  FIRE.  But  of  these  things  it  is  more  expedient  to 
"  speak  in  private,  where  we  may  shew,  how  much 
"  these  masters  of  wisdom,  who  pretend  to  be  sent 
"  from  God,  are  inferior  to  our  Poets  |." 

The 


*  Julian,  by  <pu<  psy*,  means  the  Sun,  as  before,  ®scv 
the  God  of  the  Universe.  For,  ^  xotQ*$v,  which  follows,  was, 
1  believe,  never  used  by  these  fanatic  platonistF,  lor  a  tar- 
rcsirinl  fire,  it  being  the  term  they  gave  to1  their  holy  light,  or 
av7ovloy  ayxXpot.  Julian  thought  nothing  mere  holy  than  the 
Sun.  —  He  did  not  add  the  article,  because  he  is  here  expressing 
the  idea  of  the  mistaken  beholder,  —  a  great  light,  though,  by  that, 
he  himself  meant,  the  great  light. 

-f  M*;^e*5   a*    aTTtrs'TW    SsoiV  ofuv   xj  uy.xun   u$   \v£^ca,v  nvst;   el<;  to, 
xj  T«?  NAOTS.    MijJs*?  5v   aTroiarft;    Ajyo*;*    fM»«    n^ftrUrtf 
<n7£!ij'0i«ig    WIAXS'  6*  yap   ViUitv    QM»*i^oni<   TotaDra,   run     IttatHUt 
ci  Tlft>$r,ra,i,  ri  <o}^\  TV  vtu  ty'--tcxci  \   re  -crap'  «t/rc*if  rpi 


rrov 


ea  »VM         %jf*ju&  K'JTCJJ    oitai     aXo^Jv'-,   or»  rut  u 

Mvotloti'  xj  e*  ra  raia.VTa  ypa^oflt?  (A^f«»  'arpo(p 
o/t*»Xu/i*?.  OvfiEv,  ^  ot/xai,  xw^vfi  7oy  pz'v 
nuSaiuv  tzfo$r\uv  v$i  t^yr^v  rv^eTv,  a^ftov  ^ 
a  vra^sff'^ov  at7roxa.Qa.pat  TO 


Chap,  IV.]    REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.          81 

The  reader,  who  consults  the  fragment  from  whence 
this  long  passage  is  transcribed,  will  perceive,  that  it  is 
a  mere  digression.  But  if  it  were  foreign  to  his  sub 
ject,  we  shall  see  it  concerned  a  matter  very  intimate 
to  his  thoughts.  The  persecuted  church  of  Christ  was, 
at  this  time,  triumphant,  and  loudly  exulting  in  the 
divine  protection  so  miraculously  afforded  it.  The 
apostate,  when  the  power  of  the  empire  failed  him, 
had  recourse  to  this  last  expedient,  the  arms  of  ca 
lumny,  to  vent  his  rage,  and  cover  the  shame  of  his 
disappointment.  And  then  it  was  that,  exchanging 
the  Imperial  for  the  Sophist's  throne*,  he  composed 
the  two  discourses  mentioned  above.  Now,  to  be 
altogether  silent  on  a  subject,  that  was  plainly  the 
occasion  of  his  writing,  wrould  have  been  an  affectation 
that  had  rather  betrayed,  than  covered,  his  self-con 
viction.  On  the  other  hand,  the  soldier's  pride  of 
heart,  the  pedant's  contempt  for  his  unclassical  adver 
saries,  and  the  monarch's  delicacy  for  the  imperial 
dignity,  would  not  suffer  him  to  enter  on  a  formal 
altercation.  Besides,  in  this  case,  he  must  either  have 
confessed  or  denied  the  fact.  The  one  would  have 
completed  the  triumph  of  his  adversaries  ;  and  the 
other  offended  the  ingenuity  of  his  friends.  He  there 
fore  chose  a  middle  way  :  and,  under  shew  of  exposing 
the  denunciations  of  the  Jewish  prophets  against  past 
idolatries,  as  the  ravings  of  enthusiasm,  lie  covertly 

condemns 


/xt    TUTV»    »<a    loAto 

uru  yiywoio-i  votf/I^y*  «»  Tut   virtg  ru  $tu   hoyuv   oiaa<rxaAo».    p.  295. 

Spanh.  Ed. 


Orat.  i. 

VOL.  VIII.  G 


82         OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  I. 

% 

condemns  the  present  triumphs  of  the  church  as  the 
workings  of  the  same  spirit,  upon  the  ground  of  a 
natural  event. 

For,  taking  occasion  (though  the  subject  of  the 
work  before  us  was- the  reformation  of  Paganism)  to 
vindicate  that  ancient  worship  from  the  dishonour*  it 
had  from  time  to  time  suffered,  in  the  overthrow  of 
its  temples  and  idols,  he  observes,  that  those  who  ex 
ulted  most  in  its  disgraces,  the  Jewish ftopJtets  (whose 
writings,  indeed,  abound  with  exclamations  and  denun 
ciations  on  the  folly  of  idolatry,  the  impuissance  of 
idols,  and  the  destruction  to  which  both  were  devoted) 
had  of  all  men  the  least  reason  to  triumph ;  since 
their  own  TEMPLE  had  been  thrice  destroyed,  and  at 
that  very  time  lay  in  ruins.  This  leads  him  to  the 
subject  he  wanted  to  touch  upon :  he  therefore  adds, 
that  be  spoke  this  out  of  no  ill-will  to  the  community 
of  the  Jacs,  for  that  he  was  himself  desirous  of  re 
building  their  temple.  No,  but  only  to  convince  them 
that  neither  the  overthrow  of  their  temple,  nor  the 
temples  of  Paganism,  was  to  be  ascribed  to  divine 
wrathy  but  to  the  natural  condition  of  earthly  things. 
And,  enraged  at  the  contrary  principle,  which  occa 
sioned  these  exultations  in  the  Christian  church,  he 
attempts  to  shew,  in  the  character  he  gives  of  the 
Jewish  prophets,  which  he  trusted  the  intelligent  reader 
would  apply  to  the  Christian  ministers,  that  it  was  the 
issue  of  ignorance  and  superstition.  These  prophets 
he  represents  as  despising  human  science,  and  acting 
upon  the  principles,  and  preaching  to  the  capacities 
of  ignorant  and  superstitious  women,  a  character 
which  was,  and  might  be,  objected  to  the  Christian 
ministry  >  whose  writings  are  full  of  exclamations 
against  Grecian  literature,  but  what  by  no  means 
suited  the  Jewish  prophets,  who  appear  to  have  had 
19  as 


Chap.  IV.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.          83 

as  much  of  the  barbaric  learning  of  those  early  times 
as  any  of  their  Pagan  neighbours.    But,  lest  this  should 
not  sufficiently  mark  his  purpose,  by  an  elegant  simi 
litude,  in  which  he  employs  his  favourite  idol,  the  Sun, 
to  shew  the  root  of  these  superstitions  to  be  the  igno 
rance  of  nature;  he  makes  those,  whom  he  supposes 
under  its  illusions,  to  cry  out  in  the  very  exclamations 
that  then  resounded  from  one  end  of  the  Christian 
world  to  the  other,   Fear  and  tremble,  ye  inhabitants 
of  earth  /— Fire,  lightning,  the  sword,  darts,  death, 
and  all  the  frightful  words  (says  he)  which  express  that 
one  destructive  property  of  Jire. — By  which  he  plainly 
enough  insinuates  that  this  boasted  miracle,  by  which 
his  purpose  was  defeated  was  only  a  natural  eruption : 
but  that  the  Christians  were  as  ignorant  of  natural 
causes  as  men  who  seeing  the  Sun  through  mists  mis 
take  it  for  a  globe  of  terrestrial  fire.     But  as  if  now 
he  had  run  riot,  he  suddenly  checks  himself,  and  ob 
serves,  that  this  was  a  subject  properer  for  a  private 
audience.     And  here  the  genius  of  Paganism  came  to 
his  aid  very  opportunely ;  which,  when  pinched  and 
distressed,  was  always  as  ready  to  cry  out  MYSTERY, 
as  he  says  the  church  was  to  call  out  FIIIE.     To  say 
the  truth,  it  was  full  time  to  draw  back.    He  had  con 
fessed  his  inclination   and  purpose  of  rebuilding  the 
Jewish  temple ;  and  had  evidently  enough  hinted  at 
the  exultations  of  the  Christians  on  his  defeat;  so  that 
he  had  indeed  nothing  to  do,  but  to  put  off  the  cause 
to  a  private  audience. 

On  this  exposition  of  the  passage,  let  me  just  make 
the  following  remarks, 

1.  If  we  understand  Julian's  reflections  as  indefinite, 
nothing  can  be  more  disjointed  or  absurd.  The  Chris 
tians  of  that  time  were  wont  to  draw  an  argument  of 

G  2  the 


84         OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  I. 

the  impuissance  of  polytheism  from  the  repeated  dis 
graces  the  heathen  temples  and  their  idols  had  suffered 
in  every  period  of  the  world .  Julian  undertakes  to  solve 
this  objection ;  but,  instead  of  directing  his  answer  to 
the  Christians,  who  now  make  it  against  him,  he  retorts 
it  upon  the  Jews,  who,  many  ages  ago,  had  made  it 
against  others.  These  he  wantonly  provokes  at  a  time 
his  views  made  them  necessary  to  him.  Again,  he 
characterizes  these  prophets  in  so  ambiguous  and  loose 
a  manner,  that  you  may  either  take  them  for  the 
-writers  of  the  Old  Testament,  or  the  heads  of  the 
Jewish  community  of  that  time :  which  no  rule  of 
composition  can  account  for,  but  that  which  allows 
cautious  writers  to  explain  one  system  of  things  by  the 
names  that  belong  to  another.  Lastly,  he  speaks  of 
terrifying  exclamations  as  made  by  the  prophets,  which 
they  never  did  make ;  and  which,  though  made  by 
Christ  and  his  Apostles,  are  applied  by  them  to  the 
punishments  of  a  future  state ;  whereas  he  is  speaking 
of  what  the  worshippers  of  one  God  say  of  the  dispen 
sation  of  his  providence  in  the  present.  We  must  con 
clude  therefore,  that  the  exclamations  ridiculed  in  this 
passage  must  needs  be  those  which  the  recent  event  at 
Jerusalem  had  just  occasioned. 

2.  Take  the  passage  in  this  determined  sense,  and 
nothing  can  be  more  artful  than  the  conduct  of  the 
imperial  sophist.  Our  religion  was  at  this  juncture 
properly  victorious.  It  was  exulting  over  Paganism 
in  the  destruction  of  the  temple  at  Daphne  *  ;  it  was 

exulting 

*  The  Oracle  of  Apollo  in  the  temple  at  Daphne  near  Antioch 
had  been  dumb  for  some  time.  When  Julian  came  thither,  he 
urged  the  God  himself  to  declare  the  cause  of  his  silence.  The 
Oracle  replied,  that  he  was  hirid«-ed  by  the  bones  of  St. 
Babylas,  which  \veie  then  inshnned  in  his  neighbourhood.  These 

Julian 


Chap.  IV.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.         85 

exulting  over  Judaism  in  the  divine  opposition  to  the 
restoration  of  that  at  Jerusalem  ;  and  over  the  Apostate 
Emperor  in  the  disgraces  of  both.  This  spirit  Julian 
wanted  to  repress  and  mortify.  In  the  case  of  Apollo's 
temple  he  had  no  reason  to  be  delicate.  As  to  that  of 
the  God  of  Israel,  \vc  have  shewn,  it  would  not  bear 
a  professed  mention.  How  has  he  conducted  his  dis 
course?  By  retorting  upon  the  Jews,  in  the  case  of 
their  old  ruined  temple,  the  Christian  objection  arising 
from  that  at  Daphne  :  which  recrimination  served  a 
double  purpose ;  to  introduce  what  he  had  to  say  on 
his  own  baffled  attempt;  and  to  say  it  (which  was 
the  point)  obscurely  and  darkly.  Thus  the  Christian 
triumphs,  which  he  introduces  to  ridicule,  are  so  re 
presented  as  to  have  a  more  obvious  reference  to 
the  temple  at  Daphne,  and  a  covert  one  to  the 
temple  at  Jerusalem,  by  the  choice  of  several  words 
and  circumstances  which  necessarily  extend  it  to  that 
further  meaning.  Thus,  for  instance,  the  circum 
stance  of  their  ignorance  of  nature,  rw  zr^l  aur« 
-srdfluv  false  aOcolo*,  by  which  he  would  insinuate,  that 
the  readiness  in  believing  miracles  arises  from  that 
ignorance.  But  he  could  never  intend  this  observation 
should  be  applied  to  the  temple  at  Daphne,  which  he 
did  not  believe  was  set  on  fire  by  lightning.  And  thus 
again  the  words  ^ai/ol©^  ^a'^a^a,  p/ufa/a,  the  sword, 
darts,  death,  which  he  adds  to  *ru{,  pAo£,  fire,  light- 
?2ing,  necessarily  carry  us  to  Jerusalem,  where  the 
eruption  occasioned  much  human  slaughter,  whereas 
nothing  suffered  at  Antioch  but  the  temple  of  Apollo. 
And  with  these  views  the  retortion  on  the  Jewish 
writers  will  not  appear  so  forced  and  unnatural.  It 

was 

Julian  ordered  to  be  removed  :  And  soon  after  the  temple  at  Daphne 
was  burnt  to  the  ground.  The  Christians  (says  Sozomene)  affirmed 
it  was  by  lightning  from  Heaven :  but  the  Pagans  laughed  at  this, 
and  said  it  \vu>  fired  by  the  Galileans' 

G  3 


86         OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  I. 

was  a  Christian  practice  to  apply  the  language  of  the 
Old  Testament  to  the  events  of  the  gospel  dispensation ; 
and  the  disgrace  of  idols  and  idolaters  being  the  con 
stant  subject  of  those  writings,  we  may  be  sure,  the 
Christians  would  not  fail  to  apply  every  thing  of  this 
nature  to  the  present  occasion  *.  So  that  those  scrip 
tures  being  employed  as  divine  decisions  to  confirm 
their  cause,  naturally  became  the  object  of  Julian's 
resentment. 

3.  This  likewise  well  accounts  for  the  title  of 
Prophets,  which  he  gives  these  Jewish  writers  or 
rulers;  and  for  his  abuse  of  them  under  that  character. 
It  was  to  prevent  the  reader's  stopping  at  Apollo's 
temple,  •  when  it  was  the  writer's  purpose  to  lead  him 
silently  to  that  of  Jerusalem  :  to  which  only  the  Jewish 
prophets  and  their  prophecies  had  any  relation.  These 
things  then  we  may  consider  as  certain  marks  of  his 
further  meaning.  And,  indeed,  if  he  had  it  not, 
what  reason  was  there  for  being  so  shy  in  the  mention 

*  Theodorr.t  tells  the  following  story,  very  apposite  to  this  sub 
ject :  He  says,  that  \Vhen  Julian  was  at  Antiocb,  one  Publia,  a 
venerable  matron,  and  at  the  head  of  a  community  of  virgins 
devoted  to  religion,  took  occasion,  whenever  the  Emperor  went 
that  way,  to  chant  louder  than  was  the  custom,  in  defiance  of  his 
impiety:  they  chose  too  to  sing  those  psalms  of  David  which 
ridicule  the  vanity  and  impuissance  of  idols,  a.  ruv  liJlutoi  Hupu^H 
vw  affQfveictv,  and  particularly  the  following  verses.  The  Idols  of 
the  Heal  kens  are  but  s'herand  gold,  the.  work  of  men  s  hands  :  they 
that  makt  them  are  like  unto  them,  and  so  are  oil  they  that  put  their 
trust  in  them.  Julian  (as  he  had  reason)  was  offended  with  thit 
insult,  and,  as  often  as  he  passed  by,  ordered  them  to  be  silent. 
Instead  of  obeying,  Publia  exhorted  her  virgins  to  strain  their 
throats  still  higher,  and  especially  when  they  came  to  this  verse: 
Let  Gvd. arise,  and  let  hi*  enemies  be  scattered.  This  provoked  the 
Emperor  to  order  one  of  his  guards  to  bring  out  the  old  woman 
and  box  her  ears,  which  (says  the  historian)  Publia  esteemed  a 
great  honour,  and  went  on  to  torment  thoiapostate  with  her  psalm- 
singing,  in  the  same  manner  as  the  author  of  the  Psalms  torment 
ed  the  evil  spirit  in  Saul.  L-  iii.  c.  xix. 

of 


Chap.  IV.]      REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.          87 

of  that  idol  temple?  its  destruction  did  not  at  all  dis 
tress  him ;  as  he  believed  it  to  be  set  on  fire  by  the 
Christians.  But,  in  the  other  case,  he  had  to  do  with 
the  God  of  the  Christians  ;  -and  he  was  not  yet  in  an 
humour,  whatever  he  might  be  afterwards,  to  cry, 
I'icisti,  G  all  tee. 

4.  It  being  now  seen,  that  Julian  in  this  passage 
evidently  refers  to  his  defeat,  the  covert  manner  in 
which  he  owns  himself  overcome  adds  greatly  to  the 
weight  of  it.  For  no  suspicion  can  lie  against  so 
oblique  a  reference  to  the  fact,  even  in  the  opinion  of 
those  who  could  smell  forgery  in  an  open  and  direct 
confession.  An  impostor,  piously  disposed  to  procure 
Julian's  testimony  against  himself,  would  never  think 
of  doing  it  so  obscurely,  as  that  it  should  escape  the 
notice  of  those  whom  he  principally  intended  to  im 
pose  upon. 

Thus  far  concerning  the  APOSTATE'S  own  testi 
mony.  But  as  there  were  three  parties  interested  in 
this  affair,  the  Pagans,  the  Jews,  and  the  Christians  ; 
our  evidence  might  be  thought  defective,  if  any  one 
of  them  were  wanting  on  so  important  an  occasion. 

We  shall  therefore,  in  the  next  place,  produce  the 
v  timony  of  a  famous  RABBI;  who,  though  late  in 
time,  yet  composed  the  work,  from  whence  the  fol 
lowing  passage  is  taken,  on  the  traditions  and  records 
of  the  several  ages  he  writes  of.  This  is  the  cele 
brated  R.  Gedaliah  ben  Joseph  Jeclmja;  he  lived  in 
the  fifteenth  century,  and,  in  his  history  called 
Schalscheleth  Hakkabbala,  expresses  himself  to  this 
< 'fleet:  "In  the  days  of  R.  Channan  and  his  brethren, 
"  about  the  year  of  the  world  4349,  our  annals  tell 
"  us,  there  was  a  great  earthquake  over  all  the  earth , 
"  by  which  the  temple  which  the  Jews  had  raised  at 

G  4  "  Jerusalem 


8S         OF  JULIANA  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  I. 

"  Jerusalem  with  vast  expenee,  at  the  command  of 
Cc  Julian  the  apostate,  was  thrown  down.     The  day 
"  after   the   earthquake,    a   dreadful   fire   fell    from 
"  heaven,  which  melted  all  the  iron  tools  and  instru- 
"  ments  employed   about  the   work;  and  destroyed 
"  many,  nay  incredible  numbers  of  tKe  Jews  *."     I 
will  make  two  remarks  on  this  testimony,      i.  The 
historian's  calling  it  an  earthquake  over  all  the  earth, 
is  in  the  language  of  the  Jews ;  and   the  same  with 
that   of  the  Evangelist,    who  tells    us,    that  at  the 
crucifixion,  there  was  darkness  over  all  the  earth  f. 
2.  This  story  of  a  rebuilt  temple,  shews  he  had  his 
materials   neither  from  Pagan  nor  Christian  writers  ; 
who  are  unanimous  that  no  more  than  the  foundations 
were  prepared.     And,  as  there  is  no  visible  purpose 
why  he  should  invent  it,  we  must  conclude,  he  found 
it  thus  related  in  the  annals  of  the  rabbins;  the  com 
posers  of  which  might  possibly  draw  this  conclusion 
from  what  they  found  recorded  of  the  immense  con 
tributions  of  their  people.     3.  The  historian  says,  it 
was  at  the  command  of  Julian ;  which,  without  bringing 
Christianity  into   the  question,    supplies    his  reader 
with  a  plausible  account  of  this  visible  mark  of  the 
divine  displeasure  at  the  attempt  J ;  and  consequently 
affords  his  brethren  a  principle   on  which  they  might 
believe  the  fact,  consistently  with  their  profession  of 
Judaism. 

*  In  diebus  R.  Channan  &  sociorum  ejus,  anno  circiter  orbi,? 
conditi  4349,  memorant  libri  annalium,  magnum  in  orbe  universo 
fuissc  terra?  motum,  collapsumque  esse  templum  quod  struxerunt 
Judaei  Uierosolymis,  prrecepto  Caesaris  Juliani  Apostatae,  impensis 
maximis.  Postridie  ejus  diei  [quo  mota  fuerat  terra]  de  Coelo 
ignis  multus  cecidit,  ita  ut  omnia  ferramenta  illus  aedincii  liqnes- 
cerent  &  amburerentur  Judcei  multi  atque  adeo  innumerabiles. 
Apud  Wagenseil,  Tela  ignea  Satance 

f  Luke  xxiii.  44.  J  Book  II.  c.  iv. 


Chap.  V.]    REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.          89 


CHAP.   V. 

HERE  then,  for  the  present,  we  shall  rest  our 
evidence;  ON  THE  CONFESSION  OF  OUR  ADVERSARIES 
THEMSELVES  :  And,  from  the  nature  of  the  TESTI 
MONY,  proceed  to  some  considerations  on  the  nature 
of  the  FACT,  in  order  to  the  fuller  establishment  of 
this  important  truth. 

One  of  the  requisite  qualities  in  a  forged  miracle, 
that  pretends  to  live  and  do  well,  is,  that  the  fact  on 
which  it  rises  be  private,  obscure,  unconcerning,  and 
remote  from  general  observation.  And  though  these 
circumstances  may  sometimes  attend  a  true  one ;  yet 
that  is  but  accidental,  and  hurts  not  its  credit,  so  long 
as  it  is  accompanied  (which  it  ever  is)  with  others, 
that  supply  their  defects.  But  for  a  forged  miracle 
to  affect  the  distinction  of  public  notoriety,  would  be 
too  impudent  a  reliance  even  on  religious  credulity. 
To  feign  a  miracle  on  a  civil  fact,  which  must  have 
passed  in  sight  of  a  whole  nation,  would  be  rather 
an  attempt  to  put  out  men's  eyes,  than  to  impose  on 
their  understandings.  Hence  it  is  we  find,  the  lying 
wonders  of  him,  whose  coming  was  after  the  working 
of  Satan*>  so  well  answer  the  description  which  He, 
who  came  with  all  the  power  of  the  Father,  hath 
given  us  of  every  subtile  Impostor  in  general,  that 
they  love  darkness  rather  than  light,  because  their 
deeds  are  evil. 

Now  the  PROJECT  to  rebuild  the  temple  of  Jeru 
salem  was  a  public  transaction,  the  most  notorious 
and  interesting  of  that  age. 

The  PROJECTOR  was  no  other  than  the  Emperor 

*  a  Thcss.  ii.  9. 

of 


90        OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO      [Book  I. 

of  the  world  himself:  a  circumstance  alone  sufficient 
to  draw  the  attention  of  the  world  upon  it. 

His  ATTEMPT  produced  other  circumstances  that 
would  obtrude  themselves  even  on  the  most  incurious. 
The  principal  Jews  were  called  together  from  all 
quarters  *  :  Atypius,  a  man  of  the  fifst  figure,  was 
put  at  the  head  of  the  undertaking  :  immense  quan 
tities  of  materials  were  laid  in;  vast  numbers  of 
workmen  were  assembled  ;  and  the  impotent  triumphs. 
of  the  Jews  gave  an  eclat  to  every  movement  which 
the  restless  though  determined  spirit  of  Julian  was 
hourly  pushing  forward. 

The  PLACE  contributed  no  less  to  its  notoriety.  It 
was  in  the  centre  of  the  empire;  and  in  the  head 
quarters  of  the  two  religious  parties  that  then  di 
vided  it. 

The  TIME  likewise  was  critical.  The  religious 
world  had  just  suffered  a  surprising  revolution.  It 
had  been  suddenly  brought  back  from  the  new  opinions 
to  a  profession  of  the  old.  Yet  the  disgraced  religion, 
by  courage  and  constancy  in  suffering,  still  kept  its 
enemies  anxious  amidst  all  their  success,  and  fearful, 
amidst  all  their  power,  for  what  might  be  the  final 
issue. 

The  ACTION  too  was  capitally  interesting:  The 
design  of  the  project  wras  to  give  the  last  blow  to  the 
credit  of  Christianity.  And  the  honour  of  the  new 
and  old  profession  Avas  staked  on  the  event. 

We  have  shewn  that  every  body  understood  Ju 
lian's  purpose  to  be  no  other  than  to  put  a  public 
affront  upon  Revelation.  Paganism  was  big  with 


Tlieodoret,  Hist.  Eccl.  1.  iii.  c.  20. 

expectation 


Chap.  V.]      REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.         91 

expectation.  The  Church  in  general  was  alarmed ; 
but  the  more  knowing  and  pious  amongst  them,  to  the 
very  last,  mocked  and  defied  the  impiety  of  the 
attempt  *. 

Such  were  the  various  passions  and  interests  which 
concurred  with"  the  time  and  place,  to  engage  the  at 
tention,  and  excite  the  impatience  of  all  men  for  the 
event. 

But  now,  when  full  expectation  on  the  one  side, 
and  continued  alarms  on  the  other,  had  set  the  world 
at  gaze,  the  project  suddenly  disappeared.  It  was  as 
it  had  never  been ;  and  the  temple  once  more  pre 
sented  itself  in  its  old  ruins ;  but  with  a  worse  face, 
of  horror  and  desolation.  A  surprising  issue  of  so 
much  determined  power,  and  immense  preparation! 

A  world,  thus  attentive  and  concerned,  could  not 
but  be  desirous  of  knowing  the  cause  of  so  sudden  a 
change  of  measures,  if  it  were  a  change  of  measures, 
that  influenced  the  event.  Did  the  emperor  relent? 
Did  his  agents  fail  in  their  obedience?  or  were  the 
Jews,  on  better  thoughts,  become  resigned  to  their 
visitation  ?  Was  the  purpose  diverted  by  a  foreign  in 
vasion,  or  by  domestic  troubles  ?  Did  some  hostile 
Barbarian,  at  that  juncture,  break  in  upon  the  empire; 
or  some  rebellious  province  suspend  and  weaken  its 
authority?  Or,  lastly,  did  the  Christians  themselves 
defeat  the  insult,  by  opposing  force  to  force  ?  One  or 

*  Cyrillus,  post  Maximum  confessorem,  Jerosolymis  habebatur 
cpiscopus.  Apertis  igitur  fundamentis,  calces  caementaque  ad* 
ta:  nihil  oinnino  dcerat,  quin  die  postera,  vetcribus  detur- 
butis,  nova  jacercnt  fundamenta;  cum  tamen  episcopus,  diligenti 
cousideratione  habita,  vel  ex  bis  quoe  in  Danielis  proplietia  d« 
ternporibus  legerat,  vel  quod  in  evangeliis  dominus  prxdixerat, 
persisteret  nullo  genere  fieri  posse  ut  ibi  a  Judaeis  lapis  super  la- 
pidem  pone»etur.  Res  e.rat  in  expcctatione. — Rufini  Hist.  Eccl. 
i.  x.  c.  37,  &c. 

other 


g2        OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO      [Book  I. 

other  of  these  causes  must  be  given,  to  account  for 
the  defeat  in  a  common  way :  and  yet  the  astonished 
inquirer  perceived  that  none  of  these  had  any  thing  to 
do  in  it.  The  emperor's  hatred  to  our  holy  faith 
kept  increasing  to  his  death  :  Alypius's  fidelity  to  his  . 
master,  and  zeal  for  the  old  superstition,  were  with 
out  bounds  ;  and  the  mad  insolence  of  the  Jews  proved 
them  ready  to  storm  heaven  itself  to  get  into  their 
old  quarters.  The  empire,  in  all  other  parts,  was  at 
peace ;  and  the  only  enemies  it  had,  in  these,  were 
the  Persians  ;  who  were  too  much  alarmed  by  Julian's 
preparations,  and  too  much  taken  up  in  putting  their 
own  frontiers  in  a  condition  of  defence,  to  think  of 
farther  provoking  him  by  new  inroads  into  the  empire. 
What  then  would  be  the  state  of  men's  minds  on 
this  posture  of  affairs  ?  Those  who  were  at  a  distance 
would,  in  their  loss  for  a  natural  cause,  be  attentive 
to  what  was  told  them  of  a  miracle  *.  And  those  who 
were  on  the  place  would  want  no  means  of  convincing 
them.  For  nothing  was  equivocal.  The  directors, 
the  overseers,  and  the  chief  agents  in  this  attempt, 
were  all  scattered  and  dispersed ;  and,  surely,  by  no 
panic  terror.  An  earthquake,  that  let  loose  a  sub 
terraneous  fire,  joined  to  a  heaven  all  in  flames,  tore 
in  sunder  the  foundations,  destroyed  the  workmen, 
and  burnt  up  and  consumed  the  materials.  Effects, 
which  were  all  the  objects  of  sense,  and,  what  is 
more,  remained  so  for  a  long  time  after.  For  many 
of  those  who  survived  their  fellows,  bore  about  them 
the  lasting  marks  of  their  punishment :  and,  another 
religious  revolution  coming  on,  the  site  of  the  temple 
was  suffered  to  retain  that  face  of  ravage  and  com- 

*    ^>7fO)  «7Ti  TM  T97TOV  %"/£  Ttf>  VOffU  £t»yovI«Si        SoCiat.    UlSt.    Ecd. 

1.  ili.  c.  20. 

bustion, 


Chap.  V.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.          93 

bustion,    which   the   escape  of  pent-up  fires  always 
leave  behind  them  *. 

In  this  account  then  all  parties  must  agree.  And, 
by  what  remains  of  antiquity,  it  appears  they  did  so  : 
A  consent,  not  procured  in  the  way  whereby  false 
reports  of  the  like  kind  have  sometimes  procured  it. 
For  this  was  no  trifling  event,  laid  in  a  remote  corner, 
seen  but  by  a  few  prejudiced  relators,  and  accom 
panied  only  with  ambiguous  circumstances  :  In  which 
case,  partly  from  contempt  of  a  thing  incredible, 
partly  from  neglect  of  a  thing  uninteresting,  but  prin 
cipally  from  an  indolence  that  shuns  the  trouble  of 
examining,  many  a  monkish  tale  hath  made  its  fortune. 
But  here,  had  the  fact  been  groundless,  or  the  event 
different,  their  falsehood  must  have  been  known  to 
thousands  :  and  what  was  so  easy  to  be  disproved, 
the  interests  of  thousands  would  have  exposed.  Had 
the  circumstances  been  ambiguous,  they  could  not 
have  passed  uncontroverted  :  for  This  was  not  of  the 
nature  of  the  miracle  said  to  be  procured  by  the 
prayers  of  the  thundering  legion,  which  only  gave 
testimony  to  the  power  of  Christ,  a  matter  about 
which  Paganism  was  very  indifferent  :  This  went  to 
the  quick,  and  exposed  the  impotence  and  falsehood 
of  their  idols,  a  charge  which  always  put  the  Gentiles 
out  of  temper.  But  if  they  were  so  cold  in  the  cause 
of  superstition  as  to  need  a  spur  to  vindicate  its  ho 
nour,  This  they  had  likewise  in  the  triumphs  and 
exultations  of  the  Christian  ministers  ;  who,  in  their 
sermons,  their  apologies,  their  histories,  addressed 
both  to  friends  and  enemies,  relate  the  event  in  all  its 

K.O.I  t/vv  lav  cXQij;  EK    Iff-ocl^i'fj.iic,   yipva.  &4/£t   T<*  Sfju/^ta*    XO.K  T*/* 
tioi    «M'  >J  raimjv   uxtio-ttq.  t    rura  puflvfss  fyxiTj 

no  —  Chrys.  udver. 


Judges,  Orat.  v. 

circumstances  ; 


9t        OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT,  &c.     [Book  I. 

circumstances ;  call  upon  the  numerous  eye-witnesses 
to  attest  the  truth ;  appeal  to  the  standing  marks  of 
the  fact,  the  traces  of  a  dreadful  exterminating  fire 
over  all  the  place,  and  on  many  of  the  persons  con 
cerned  ;  and,  lastly,  defy  the  advocates  of  idolatry  to 
gainsay  the  exactness  of  their  relation. 

Such  is  the  illustrious  miracle  we  have  here  at 
tempted  to  defend.  We  have  examined  it  on  the 
severest  rules  of  rational  assent.  And  we  find  it 
established  on  that  full  concurrence  of  happy  circum 
stances  which,  we  might  expect,  should  attend  a 
miracle  so  singular  in  its  nature,  and  so  important 
and  decisive  in  its  use. 

But  there  is  one  circumstance  almost  peculiar  to  it, 
and,  as  it  crowns  all  the  rest,  will  deserve  our  most 
serious  regard.  It  is  this,  that  the  attempt  and  the 
issue  are  so  interwoven  with  one  another,  that  they 
must  stand  or  fall  together.  For  whoever  allows  that 
Julian  began  to  rebuild  the  temple,  which  he  could 
not  finish,  must  confess  the  obstruction  came  from 
above,  because  no  human  impediment  interfered.  And 
whoever  denies  the  obstruction  must  deny  the  attempt, 
because  if  there  were  no  obstruction  of  that  kind, 
there  was  none  at  all :  and  if  there  were  none  at  all, 
then  there  was  nothing  to  be  obstructed.  That  is, 
Julian  never  attempted  to  rebuild  the  Temple ;  an  in 
ference  so  furiously  sceptical,  as  would  overturn  the 
xvhole  body  of  civil  history. 


A 

DISCOURSE 

ON   THE   ATTEMPT   OF   THE    EMPEROR 

JULIAN 

TO    REBUILD    THE 

TEMPLE    OF    JERUSALEM. 


BOOK   II. 

HAVING  now  so  well  established  the  MIRACLE, 
we  have  little  need  to  inquire  into  the  objections 
that  may  be  made  to  it,  any  further  than  as  we  may 
be  led  by  our  own  curiosity,  or  inclined  to  gratify  the 
curiosity  of  others,  in  seeing  how  far  the  capricious* 
ness  of  wanton  wit  can  go  in  its  frolics  towards  per 
plexing  the  plainest  and  most  evident  of  useful  truths. 


CHAP.    I. 

FIRST  then  it  may  be  objected,  "That the  credit 
of  the  miracle  rests  entirely  on  the  truth  of  this 
supposition,  That  the  holy  oracles  of  God  have  de 
clared,  that  /he  Jewish  Temple  should  never  be.  re 
built  :  For  if  this  were  not  predicted,  the  restoration 
of  it  did  not  impeach  the  divine  veracity;  nor,  con 
sequently,  was  its  honour  concerned  in  frustrating  the 

attempt. 


96      OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  II. 

attempt.  Now  the  word  of  God  no  where  says  that 
the  Jewish  Temple  should  never  be  rebuilt;  on  the 
contrary,  it  insinuates  tnat  it  should.  It  predicts,  in 
general  terms,  the  total,  but  notjmal  destruction  of 
the  Temple ;  and,  in  express  words,  says,  That  Je 
rusalem  shall  be  trodden  down  of  the  Gentiles  UNTIL 
the  times  of  the  Gentiles  be  fulfilled.  Which  imply 
there  was  to  be  a  period  to  the  desolation,  though  the 
time  be  so  obscurely  marked  as  to  make  the  fixing  it 
uncertain." 

The  objection  is  plausible,  and  well  deserves  a  so 
lution.  On  which  account  (the  method  of  the  Dis 
course  concurring)  it  was  thought  proper  to  obviate 
it  in  the  very  entrance  on  this  argument :  where  it  is 
shewn,  from  the  nature  of  the  Jewish  and  Christian 
religions,  that  the  total  destruction,  mentioned  in  the 
Prophecies,  necessarily  implied  ajinal  one :  For  that, 
in  the  order  of  God's  dispensations,  the  Jewish  and 
the  Christian  Religions  could  never  stand  together : 
when  This  became  established,  That  was  to  be  done 
away.  But  while  the  temple  remained,  Judaism  still 
existed  :  when  That  was  overthrown,  the  religion  fell 
with  it ;  and  consequently  must  rise  again  with  the 
temple.  But  as  this  religion  was  not  to  rise  while 
Christianity  continued,  the  Temple  was  never  to  be 
restored.  The  consequence  of  all  is,  that,  if  it  were 
restored,  Christianity  could  no  longer  support  its  pre 
tensions,  nor  the  prophets  nor  Jesus  the  truth  of  their 
predictions. 


CHAP.   II. 

SECONDLY,    The  testimony  of  Amm.  Mar- 
cellinus,  decisive  as  it  is,  hath  been  cavilled.     It  is 

suspected, 


Chap.  IT.]    REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.  97 

suspected,  "  That  He  is  no  original  Evidence ;  but 
hath  taken  the  account,  he  gives  us  of  what  then  passed 
at  Jerusalem,  from  the  Christian  writ  rs :  the  work  in 
tvhich  we  find  it  being  composed  near  twenty  years 
after  the  event,  when  the  fathers  had  turned  what 
th  re  was  of  the  natural  fact  into  a  miracle;  and,  by 
their  declamatory  eloquence,  had  made  it  famous 
throughout  the  now  believing  empire." 

This  objection  abounds  with  absurdities :  but  it  is 
not  of  my  invention. 

It  supposes  Marcellmus  to  have  taken  his  account 
from  the  Christian  writers,  because  theie  were  no 
other  to  be  had :  for  if  there  were  other,  then  the 
Historian's  authority  does  not  rest  on  their  testimony  ; 
or,  if  it  does,  it  rests  on  a  good  foundation,  the  evi 
dence  of  Christian  writers,  supported  by  the  Pagan. 
But  is  it  likely  that  an  unbeliever,  a  man  of  sense, 
and  a  lover  of  truth,  should  so  confide  in  those  of 
the  new  persuasion,  speaking  in  their  own  cause,  and 
unsupported  by  other  evidence,  as  to  deliver  a  itct, 
in  terms  of  absolute  certainty :  which  discredited  a  re- 
lijon  he  reverenced,  and  a  master  he  idolized  ?  Could 
ve,  under  these  circumstances,  suppose  him  capable 
of  preserving  the  memory  of  so  unsupported  a  story, 
we  should  at  least  look  to  find  it  delivered  in  such 
terms  of  doubt  and  suspicion  as  he  must  needs  think 
were  justly  due  unto  it 

But  the  Objector  *  seems  to  have  attended  as  little 
to  the  situation  and  circumstances,  us  to  the  character 
of  the  Historian.  When  this  event  happened  at  Jeru 
salem,  Ammianus  was  not  in  winter-quarters  alar  off 
in  (jdui  or  Germany ;  but  near  at  hand,  in  the  em 
peror's  court  at.Antioch,  and  in  an  office  <-f  distinction* 
The  objector,  I  suppose,  will  allow  that  Julian  made 

*  Lr.  S. 

VOL.  VIII.  II  the 


98       OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  IL 

the  attempt.  The  attempt,  I  have  shewn,  was  in  its 
nature,  such  as  must  draw  the  attention  of  the  whole 
empire  upon  it.  Ammianus  represents  it  as  one  of 
the  most  considerable  enterprises  of  his  master's  reign ; 
and  that  it  was  projected  to  perpetuate  his  memory. 
It  miscarried.  And  is  it  possible  the  cause  of  the 
miscarriage  could,  at  that  time,  be  more  a  secret  to 
him  than  the  undertaking  ?  Yet,  if  we  believe  the  ob 
jector,  the  first  news  he  heard  of  it  was  from  the 
Christian  Priests.  Be  it  so.  I  ask  no  more,  to  shew 
the  objection  devoid  of  all  common  sense.  A  courtier 
of  credit,  a  curious  observer  of  what  passed  about  him, 
hears  nothing  of  what  happened  in  his  neighbourhood, 
at  the  time  it  did  happen,  though  in  an  affair  that 
engaged  all  men's  attention.  Many  years  after,  in 
hunting  for  materials  to  compose  his  history,  he  starts 
this  story.  And  where,  I  pray,  does  he  find  it !  Why 
truly,  skulking  in  the  cover  of  a  thorny  and  perplext 
invective,  or  flaunting  amongst  the  meretricious  orna 
ments,  and  on  the  authority,  of  loose  and  prejudiced 
declaimers,  records  it,  in  his  Annals,  as  a  fact  un 
questionable.  Not,  as  was  said,  to  derive  credit  to 
his  master  or  his  religion,  but  to  entail  eternal  disho 
nour  upon  both :  and  all  this  without  giving  either  of 
them  the  least  relief ;  as  was  easy  11>  be  done  by  only 
tellincr  from  whom  he  had  his  story. 

In  a  word,  we  see,  the  objection  arises  out  of  this 
circumstance,  The  distance  of  time  between  the  fact 
and  the  historians  account  of  it.  But  such  a  circum 
stance  can  never  support  a  conclusion  of  this  nature, 
but  in  the  case  \vhere  a  writer,  who  had  an  occasion 
to  record  a  memorable  fact  at  the  time  it  happened, 
omits  to  do  so;  and  afterwards,  at  the  distance  of 
many  years,  sticks  it  into  his  history,  without  any 
reason  given  for  his  preceding  silence.  .But  this  was 
23  not 


Chap.  II.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.  99 

not  the  case  here:  Arnm.  Mnrcellinus  tells  the  story 
as  soon  as  ever  he  had  an  opportunity  of  so  do;n<j ; 
which  was  when  he  retired  from  business  to  write  his 
tory.  And  the  distance  between  that  and  the  event 
is  so  far  from  taking  fro  n  the  credit  of  his  relation, 
that,  as  was  observed,  it  adds  greatly  to  it. 

For  we  cannot  but  conclude,  that  as  a  soldier  and 
man  of  business,  he  kept  a  journal  of  everv  tiling  that 
passed  ;  though  we  should  not  suppose,  wh  -t  is  equally 
probable,  that  as  a  lover  of  letters  he  had  very  early 
formed  his  design  of  writing  history.  In  what,  there 
fore,  concerned  the  transactions  of  those  times,  he 
had  a  sure  and  easy  way  of  coming  to  the  truth  ; 
which  was  by  comparing  his  own  diary  with  the  later, 
and  better  digested,  accounts  of  others  But  indeed 
the  nature  of  the  fact,  and  the  quality  of  the  writer, 
shew  us,  there  was  little  danger  of  mistake  An  au 
thentic  accuunt  of  this  whole  matter 'was  doubtless 
amongst  the  papers  of  state ;  to  all  which  our  historian 
had  free  access.  And  if  we  should  suppose  his  rela 
tion  to  be  no  other  than  a  faithful  abstract  of  Alypius's 
letter  to  Julian,  we  should  not,  I  believe,  be  a  great 
way  from  the  truth.  It  is  certain,  that  a  prudent 
historian,  circumstanced  as  Marcellinus  then  was, 
could  not  have  acted  a  wiser  part  than  to  relate  so 
nice  an  adventure  in  the  very  words  of  the  person,  to 
whose  conduct  it  was  committed :  for  in  so  doing,  he 
found  himself  in  that  rare  situation  of  adherence 
strictly  to  truth,  without  offending  either  of  the  parties 
who  then  strove  for  the  possession  of  it.  We  may 
further  observe,  that  this  supposition  clears  up  another 
objection  which  has  been  made  to  his  narrative.  For, 

Thirdly,  we  are  told,  "  that  the  testimony  of  Mar- 
celliuus  does  but  half  our  business :  tor  though  he 

H  2  gives 


loo      OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  II. 

gives  a  circumstantial  relation  of  the  fact,  he  speaks 
of  it  as  a  natural,  not  a  miraculous •,  event.'' 

The  former  objection,  we  see,  supposes  he  had 
gone  too  far ;  This,  that  he  hath  not  gone  far  enough. 
And  yet  I  cannot  understand  how  a  professed  Pagan 
could  have  said  more,  in  conscience.  This  objector, 
sure,  is  not  so  unreasonable  to  expect,  he  should 
have  recorded  the  triumphs  of  the  Gospel  over  his 
own  religion,  in  the  words  of  the  Christian  writers, 
Because  the  other  Objector  had  taken  it  into  his  head 
that  he  was  beholden  to  them  for  his  account  of  the 
story. 

Thus  far  we  may  be  certain :  Had  Arnrnianus 
thought  it  an  artifice  or  imposture,  he  would  have  con 
trived  to  tell  us  so.  For  what  should  hinder  him  ? 
Not  any  regard  to  the  leaders  of  the  Christian  sect, 
upon  whom  the  scandal  would  have  fallen;  for  he  is 
not  backward,  on  every  occasion,  to  expose  their 
follies  and  perversities.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
general  character  of  Paganism  made  him  very  easy 
not  to  form  any  distinct  judgment  about  the  matter. 
Had  he  /had  any  such  inclination,  he  was  fairly  in 
vited  to  it  by  what  he  found  (and  therefore  honestly 
related)  of  the  obstinacy  of  the  eruption,  resolutely 
bent  to  drive  them  to  a  distance  *. 

After  all,  a  faithful  historian,  thus  circumstanced, 
must  be  sufficiently  distressed. 

But  Ainmianus's  skill  was  great,  like  his  honesty; 
and  he  found  a  way  to  disengage  himself  with  honour. 
Other  considerations  apart,  the  fact  was  too  notorious 

to   be   smothered,    and  too  important  to   be  passed 

i 

*  Hocque  modo  elemento  destinalius  repellente,  cessavit  in- 
ceptum, 

over: 


Chap.  II.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.  101 

over:  at  the  same  time,  the  mention   of  it  was  nice 
and  delicate ;  it  was   like  walking  over  those  burning 
ruins  while  yet  hot  with   the  breath   of  the   avenger. 
Two  things,  in  it,  equally  required  management,  the 
motive  to  the  attempt ;  and  the  nature  of  the  deficit : 
the  one  affected  the  glory  of  his  master ;  the  other, 
the  interests  of  his   religion.     See,  now,  his  address, 
and  how  artfully  he  has  come  off!  Julian  gave  diffe 
rent  reasons  for  his   project,  as  best  suited  the  views 
he  had  on  those  to  whom  he  told  it.     To  the  Jews  he 
aifected  compassion  for  their  sufferings,  and  reverence 
for  their  holy  rites :  To  his  Priests  and  Sophists,  we 
may  be  confident,  he  revealed  his  secret  purpose  to 
be  the  disgrace  and  ruin  of  revelation  * :  And  to  his 
courtiers  and  military  men  he  pretended,  what  was 
most  to  their  humour,  the  fame  and  glory  of  the  en 
terprise.     Though  Amtnianus  was  certainly  no  dupe 
to  his  professions,  yet  he  found  it  convenient,  and  he 
thought  it  fair,    to  convey  that   motive  to  posterity, 
which  Julian  had  given  to  his  corps.     The  defeat  was 
next  to  be  considered.     To  own  the  miracle,  would 
be  condemning  his  Religion]    explicitly   to  deny  it, 
would  be  violating  his  Honour.     He  avoided  this  di 
lemma,  by  employing  the  words  of  the  original  Re- 
lator :  and  when  we  see,  in  his  account,  the  very  lan 
guage  of  a  narrative  of ,  State,  we  can  no  more  doubt 
that  he  did  employ  them,  than  that  Alypius  himself 
sent  his  master  a  relation  of  the  whole  affair. 

But  if  the  necessity  of  saying  so  much  distressed 
his  Principles,  the  necessity  of  saying  no  more  crampt 
his  Genius^  which  was  bold  and  swelling ;  and  prompt, 
on  these  occasions,  to  pour  along  the  torrent  of  his 
eloquence.  Hear  how  pompously  he  describes  an 

*  See  the  note  in  p.  91. 

H  3  earthquake 


1 02      OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  II. 

earthquake  at  Nico^nedia. — "  Eminuere  Nicomediae 
clades — "  But  ttie  reader  will  find  the  rest  below*. 

He  professes,  we  see,  to  tell  his  story  briefly  and 
truly:  And  1  believe  he  did  so.  Yet  his  brevity 
does  not  hinder  him  from  specifying  the  very  day,  nay 
even  the  hour  vihen'l'  this  or  that  circumstance  was 
remarked  :  nor  his  truth  from  giving  us  as  minute  a 
description  of  the  various  kinds  of  deaths  as  at  a 
battle  in  Homer.  How  different  is  this  from  his  rela 
tion  of  the  event  at  Jerusalem  !  There  he  does  not  so 

*  «  _  rujus  ru'marum  eventum  we  breviterque  absolvam. 
"  Primo  lucis  exortu  die  nuiio  hal.  Sepfembrium,  concreti  nubium 
"  globi  nigrantium,  be  turn  puulo  ant£  cccli  speciem  confuderunt : 
"  et  amandato  soils  spiendorc,  nee  coritigua  vel  apposita  cerne- 
*'  bantur:  ita  oculoium  obtutu  praestricto,  humo  mvolutus  crassae 
"  caliginis  squalor  msedit.  Dein,  vclui  numine  summofalules  con- 
"  torqucnte  manubias,  ventosque  ab  ipsis  excnante  cardmibus, 
"  m  ignitudo  furentium  mcubuit  procellarum,  et  elibi  Lteris  tragor; 
"  haec  qu*  secuti  fyphonet  atqut  presteres,  cum  hornfico  tremore 
"  terrarum,  civitatem  et  suburbana  funditus  everterunt. — Interim 
"  clamoribus  variis  CKcelsa  culmin.i  resultabant,  qucrritantium 
"  conjiigium  liberosquc,  et  si  quid  necessitudmis  arte  constringit. 
"  Post  horarn  demyue  tecundam,  mvlto  ante  tertiam,  aer  jam  sudus 
"  et  liquidus  latentes  letexit  funereas  strages.  Non-nvlli  enim 
"  supenuentium  rudeium  vi  mmia  const ipata  sub  ipsis  interiere 
"  ponderibus.  Q-.idam  collo  tenus  aggenbus  obrut.,  cum  su- 
*'  peresse  possent  si  qui  juvissent,  auxiliorum  inopia  necabantur. 
"  Alii  l.^norum  extantium  acuminibus  fixi  peudebant.  Urio  ictu 
"  ceesi  comphrcs  paullo  ante  honrnes,  tune  promisruae  strages 
"  cad  .veium  cernebantur.  Quosdani  domorum  inclinata  fastigia 
"  intrintecus  ferebant  mtactos,  angore  et  media  consumendos. — • 
"  Alii  subita  ruinee  magnitudine  opp,essi  iisdem  adhuc  mollibus 
"  conteguntur.  Collisis  qitidam  capitibus,  vel  humeris  pinefectis 
"  autciunbus,  inter  vitae  mort  sque  confinia,  aliorum  adjumenta 
41  paria  perferentium  implorantts  cum  obtestatione  ruagna  desere- 
"  bantur— " 

f  lie  is  alike  circumstantial  in  dating  that  other  dreadful  com 
motion  which  happened  in  tbe  first  consulate  of  Valentinian  and 
his  brother — "  diem  duodecimum  Kal.  Augustas,  Consule  Valen- 
"  tiniano  primum  cuui  fr atre,  horrendi  terrores,"  <^c.  1.  xxvi.  c.  iu. 

much 


Chap.  II.]    REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.         103 

much  as  inform  us  of  the  month  in  which  it  happened; 
we  should  even  .have  been  at  a  loss  for  the  year,  but 
that  the  Persian  expedition  directs  us,  to  which  the 
form  of  his  annals  hath  connected  it.  And  so  far  is 
he  from  dwelling  upon  the  slaughter  that  followed, 
the  too  certain  consequence  of  eruptions  of  this  nature, 
that,  had  it  not  been  for  the  Christian  writers,  we 
might  have  suspected  his  horrible  balls  ofjire  *  had 
contained  little  more  than  a  lambent  flame,  for  any 
mischief  that  followed. 

Again,  he  is  not  content  to  relate  the  Nicomedian 
earthquake,  and  expatiate  only  on  its  effects:  he 
is  as  particular  in  describing  both  the  prognostics  that 
preceded  it  (such  as  the  firmament  overcast,  and  the 
day  darkened  with  storms  and  tempests),  and  the 
symptoms  that  attended  it  (such  as  the  lightning  and 
whirlwind).  While,  on  the  other  hand,  his  account 
of  the  disaster  in  Jerusalem  is  stript  'of  all  these 
circumstances  of  terror;  though  they  be  the  constant 
forerunners  and  attendants  of  fiery  eruptions ;  and, 
if  we  may  believe  the  Christian  writers,  did  actually 
precede  and  accompany  this  :  nor  have  we  any  reason 
to  disbelieve  them,  because  they  speak  (as  we  shall 
see)  of  certain  phenomena,  the  natural  effects  of  the 
disordered  elements,  which  they  erroneously  ascribe 
to  a  different  cause. 

But  this  is  not  all :  Ammianus,  to  give  us  the  most 
fearful  idea  of  this  desolation  at  Nicomedia,  says,  the 
conflict  of  nature  was  such,  as  if  the  God  of  Nature 
himself,  armed  with  all  the  stores  of  heaven,  was 
hurling  his  lightning  over  a  perishing  world.  But 
we  find  not  a  line  of  this  imagery  in  the  affair  at 
Jerusalem.  The  Deity  is  there  kept  out  of  sight; 
though  the  repeated  eruptions,  which,  he  says,  seemed 

*  Metuendi  globi  flammarmn. 

H  4  obstinately 


104      OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  II, 

obstinately  and  resolutely  bent  to  drive  the  workmen 
to  a  distance,  drove  him  to  the  confines  of  superior 
agency.  Bit  he  was  un\\  iiling,  and  for  a  good  reason, 
to  call  his  readers  after  him. 

What  could  occasion  a  conduct  so  different  in  a 
case  so  similar?  Had  he  related  the  one  as  a  noted 
fact,  and  the  other  but  as  an  uncertain  rumour, 
something  mi^ht  he  pretended,  But  this  makes  the 
difficulty,  he  teils  them  both  as  facts,  and  facts  of 
equal  notoriety  and  truth.  A  difficulty  nothing  can 
solve  but  what  we  have  already  shewn  to  be  the  case, 
the  bashfulness  of  a  backward  evidence. 

In  this  light  we  see,  that  his  relating  the  eruption 
of  Jerusalem  as  a  natural  event,  takes  nothing  from 
the  reality  of  the  divine  interposition.  When  a  Pagan 
bears  testimony  to  a  fact  of. this  importance,  we 
may  be  as  sure  it  is  a  miracle  as,  when  a  Papist  bears 
testimony  to  a  miracle  of  no  importance  at  all,  we 
are  sure  it  is  a  trick. 

But  his  reserve  is  so  far  from  depriving  us  of  the 
benefit  of  his  testimony,  that  it  is  that  which  supports 
it.  Had  we  found  a  Pagan  speaking  like  a  Christian 
Father  on  this  occasion,  his  evidence  had  soon  be 
come  as  suspected  as  that  of  the  Jewish  historian, 
where  he  speaks  of  Christ ;  which  one  of  the  ablest 
and  most  candid  of  his  critics  has  fairly  condemned 
for  an  imposture;  and  another  equally  respectable, 
\vho  would  fain  bolster  up  its  credit,  frankly  owns, 
could  never  come  from  him  in  the  condition  it  is 
brought  down  to  us.  This  miracle,  without  question, 
embarrassed  Marcellinus  no  less  than  the  WORKER 
of  miracles  distressed  the  other  Historian :  whose 
case  the  excellent  W'riter,  just  now  mentioned,  has 
well  described.  But  had  posterity  made  equally  free 
with  both,  I  should  have  despaired  of  disengaging 

my 


Chap.  III.]    REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       105 

my  Author  with    the  address   and   abilities   he    has 
served  Josephus  *. 

In  a  word,  all  we  want  of  our  adversaries  is  to 
have  the  fact  acknowledged  as  Ammianus  relates  it. 
Its  nature  depends  neither  on  his,  nor  on  their,  nor 
on  our  opinion  of  the  nntter,  but  on  the  nature  of 
things.  We  think,  indeed,  that  it  speaks  itself. 
But,  for  the  sake  of  those  who  think  otherwise, 
I  propose,  in  the  course  of  this  examination,  to  shew, 
that  it  was  an  effect,  which  no  power  but  thdt  of 
the  moral  Governor  of  the  universe  was  able  to 
produce. 

1  proceed,  then,   in  my  subject;   to  which   these 
cavils  are  only  tiie  pi-elude. 


CHAP.    III. 

THE  next  objection  to  the  fact  arises  from  what, 
one  would  have  hoped,  should  have  been  the  chief 

Support    Of   it,     THK    TESTIMONY    OF    THE    FATHERS. 

But  their  credit  amongst  fashionable  letters  is  now 
so  low,  that  if  they  do  not  dishonour  the  cause 
they  appear  in,  it  is  all  we  are  to  expect  from  them. 
For,  as  a  late  writer  |  graciously  allows  us  to  believe 
every  strange  thing  except  a  MIRACLE,  so,  to  say 
the  truth,  we  are  apt  enough  to  credit  every  strange 
relator  of  antiquity,  so  he  be  not  a  FATUKU.  And 
yet,  it  is  very  certain,  the  fathers  were,  at  worst, 

*  See  Mr.  Foister's  Discourse,  intitled,  "A  Dissertation 
upon  the  accou  t  supposed  t>  have  been  given  of  Jesus  Christ 
by  Josephus,  kc.  Oxon.  MDCCXLIX." 

f  In  a  book,  iu'.i'leii,  "  Philosophical  Essays  concerning 
Human  Understanding,"  printed  1748,  p.  199. 

no 


io6      OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  II. 

no  more  prejudiced  in  favour  of  Religion,  than  their 
Pagan  neighbours  were  prejudiced  against  it.  And 
whether  these  were  philosophers,  sophists,  or  states 
men,  if  we  read  their  works,  we  shall  find  that 
very  credulity,  prejudice,  false  reasoning,  and  ill 
faith,  which  these  objectors  pretend  has  been  dis 
covered  in  some  of  the  most  celebrated  of  the 
fathers. 

But  what  is  it  They  have  done,  in  the  point  in 
question,  which  proves  so  injurious  to  their  own 
cause?  "Why,  it  seems,  they  differ  greatly  from 
Ammianus,  in  their  relation  of  this  extraordinary 
fact ;  by  adding  many  circumstances  to  his ;  some  of 
which  are  utterly  incredible." 

Whether  it  were  the  Fathers,  or  their  Cause,  which 
render  their  accounts  incredible,  will  be  seen  in  due 
time.  At  present  let  me  observe,  it  greatly  eases 
their  defence,  that  it  cannot  be  fairly  pretended,  that 
the  Christian  writers  contradict  the  relation  of  Ammi 
anus,  in  aiiy  the  least  particular. 

In  the  Second  place,  What  I  said  before,  of  Mar- 
cellinus's  substractions,  I  here  repeat  of  the  Fathers* 
additions ;  that  they  are  so  far  from  invalidating  the 
fact,  that  they  add  greatly  to  its  support.  We  have 
shewn  Marcellinus  to  be  an  unwilling  Evidence,  who 
hath  cautiously  avoided  saying  more  than  was  just 
necessary  to  save  harmless  his  character  of  a  faithful 
historian.  It  was  natural  then  to  expect  he  had 
studiously  omitted  such  circumstances  as  made  most 
for  the  honour  of  that  cause  to  which  he  was  neither 
a  friend  nor  favourer. 

Thirdly,  Admitting  it  was  as  is  pretended,  that 
incredible  things  are  to  be  found  in  their  relations : 
this  circumstance  will  scarce  be  deemed  sufficient 

to 


Chap.  II.]    REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.         107 

to  overthrow  a  well -attested  fact,  by  any  who  con 
sider  that  such  as  are  hest  established  have  never 
been  exempt  from  these  injurious  pollutions.  The 
miracles  of  Christ  and  his  apostles  have  not  escaped 
the  adulterations  of  heretics.  And  if  this  were  suf 
ficient  to  discredit  truth,  there  is  not  a  fact  in  cml 
history  that  would  stand  its  ground'.  As  to  those 
who  expect  a  certain  innate  virtue  in  Truth,  of  force 
to  extrude  all  heterogeneous  mixture,  they  expect 
a  qualitv  which  was  never  yet  found  in  it,  nor,  I  fear, 
ever  will.  Nay,  the  more  notorious  a  fact  of  this 
kind  is,  that  is  to  say,  the  more  eye-witnesses  there 
are  of  it,  the  more  subject  it  is  to  undesigned  de 
pravation  ;  as  there  must  be,  amongst  a  large  cloud 
of  evidence,  some  men  of  heated  fancies :  and  the 
greater  the  communication,  and  the  frequenter  the 
collision,  of  these  warm  heads,  the  more  active  and 
inflamed  will  be  the  creative  faculty  of  the  mind; 
which,  in  that  state,  we  find,  has  always  been 
the  seminary  of  false  circumstances  of  the  prodi 
gious  kind. 

But  we  should  grant  a  great  deal  too  much  in 
allowing  this  to  be  the  case  here.  Providence  did 
not  do  its  work  by  halves  ;  nor  was  penurious  in 
the  grace  so  seasonably  bestowed  upon  the  suffering 
church.  For,  what,  we  have  shewn,  was  performed 
in  the  sight  of  all  men,  we  shall  see,  was  faithfully 
commemorated  by  the  most  celebrated  preachers  and 
apologists  of  that  age ;  and  as  soberly  and  carefully 
recorded  by  the  best  historians  of  the  follcAvhtg.  And 
if,  travelling  downwards  in  a  blind  and  heavy  road, 
it  contracted  some  stains  of  the  soil  through  which 
it  passed,  it  was  never  so  disfigured  as  to  have  those 
dirty  features  mistaken  for  its  natural  countenance, 
by  any  the  least  attentive  observer. 

The 


i o8      OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  II. 

The  Christian  Evidence  for  the  fact  are  GREGORY 
NAZIANZEN,  AMBROSE,  and  CHRYSOSTOM.  These 
lived  at  the  time  it  happened.  The  next  age  pro 
duced  RUFINUS,  SOCRATKS,  SOZOMEN,  and  THEO 
DORE  T,  whose  testimony  is  perfectly  consistent  one 
with  the  other.  In  the  last  place  are  PHIJLOSTORGIUS, 
THEOPHANES,  OROSIUS,  NICEPHORUS,  ZONARAS, 
and  CEDRENUS,  who,  although  distant  and  different 
in  age,  are  so  near  allied  in  judgment,  that  they 
are  here  put  together;  not  to  add  credit  to  the  cause 
they  serve ;  but,  by  separating  them  from  their  several 
contemporaries  of  a  better  paste  and  compound,  to 
bear  alone  the  shame  of  their  proper  folly  or 
prevarication. 

The  original  evidence,  as  we  said,  are  Ambrose, 
Chrysostom,  and  Gregory  Naziaiizen.  Of  these,  ! 
Ambrose  lived  far  in  the  West;  and  having,  as 
may  be  supposed,  received  only  a  general  relation  of 
the  fact,  he  delivers  it  as  generally.  Have  you  not 
heard  (says  he,  writing  to  the  emperor  Theodosius) 
how  when  Julian  gave  command  to  rebuild  the  temple 
of  Jerusalem,  the  workmen  were  destroyed  by  a  FIRE 
sent  from  God*? 

In 

*  This  is  an  epistle  to  the  Emperor?*  written  on  a  very 
singular  occasion — A  certain  bishop  had  excited  his  flock  to 
burn  a  Jewish  synagogae  :  which  being  complained'of  to  Theodo 
sius,  he  ordered  the  offenders  to  b«  punished  ;  and  that  the  bishop 
should  rebuild  it  at  his  own  expence.  The  impiety  of  this 
sentence  was  so  offensive  to  Ambrose,  that,  having  reminded  the 
Emperor  of  the  fate  of  the  Jewish  Temple,  he  asks  him,  whether 
he  does  not  expect  the  same  dishonours  should  attend  his 
command,  which  followed  the  attempt  of  Julian.  "  Non  audisti, 
*'  Imperator,  quia  cum  jussisset  Julianus  reparari  Templum 
"  Hierosolymis,  quod  divino  qui  faciebant  repagulum  igne  fla- 
tl  grarunt?  Non  caves  ne  etiam  nunc  faciat  ?  Adeo  a  te  non 
"  fuit  jubendum  ut  Julianus  hoc  jusserit,"  Ep.  xl.  It  was  well 

this 


Chap.III.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.        109 

In  which  may  be  discerned  the  different  fortune 
that  naturally  attends  truth  and  falsehood.  A  fable, 
the  further  it  goes,  the  more  it  gathers :  for,  like  all 
untimely  productions,  coming  out,  at  first,  rude  and 
unformed,  it  leaves  room  for  charitable  invention  to 
give  it  shape ;  which,  by  general  contribution,  soon 
raises  it  to  a  bulk  that  looks  considerable.  Whereas 
the  circumstances  of  a  true  story  drop  off,  one  after 
another,  as  it  advances  in  its  progress,  till  it  becomes 
stript,  and  contracted  to  its  essence:  for  there  being 
precision  in  the  testimony  of  the  evidence,  and  con 
viction  in  the  nature  of  the  fact,  men,  on  its  first 
appearance,  are  less  solicitous,  as  they  have  less 
need,  to  support  it  by  its  circumstances,  than  to 
convey  it  by  its  essentials. 

Chrysostom,  indeed,  was  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
the  place.     But,    speaking   to   an   audience  as   well 
instructed    in   the  affair  as  himself,    though  he   had 
frequent   occasion  to  put  them  in  mind  of  so  dis 
tinguishing 

this  miracle  was  performed  by  God,  to  do  honour  to  himself: 
Had  it  been  to  do  honour  to  the  bishops  of  his  church,  we  see 
how  little  they  deserved  it !  Here  is  one  who  violates  the 
civil  peace,  and  invades  the  religious  rights  of  his  neighbour; 
and  another  who  supports  him  in  so  doing,  on  the  authority  of 
the  miracle  at  Jerusalem.  In  which  tliey  either  foully  pre 
varicate  j  or  grossly  mistake  the  purpose  of  God's  interposition. 
They  represent  it  as  intended  for  an  example  to  the  magistrate 
to  restrain  the  Jews  from  all  excercise  01  their  superstition; 
when  it  was  evidently  for  no  other  purpose  than  to  support  the 
truth  of  the  divine  predictions  concerning  the  ruin  of  a  certain 
temple.  Theodosius  was  to  expect  the  fate  of  Julian.  Arid 
why  ?  Because  he  was  supporting  those  very  rights  of  nature 
which  Julian  then  riolaffd:  For  the  attempt  to  rebuild  the 
temple  was  but  one  of  the  many  arts  he  employed  to  extirpate 
the  Christian  Faith  by  violence.  But  it  has  always  been  the 
trick,  and  has  often  proved  the  defeat,  of  Intolerance,  to  place 
their  miserable  Principle  on  such  foundations  as  are  found  most 
of  all  to  discredit  it. 


no      OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  II. 

tinguishing  a  mercy,  yet  always  dwells  in  generals; 
just  as  he  would  have  done  in  referring  to  the  cruci 
fixion,  or  to  any  other  the  most  known  incident  in 
the  Gospel.  Thus,  in  his  Discourse  against  the  Jews 
and  Gentiles,  speaking  of  the  desolate  condition  of 
the  temple,  he  says — "  For  in  our  times  that  monarch, 
"  who  exceeded  all  men  in  his  malice  to  our  holy 
"  faith,  both  lent  the  aid  of  the  Imperial  authority, 
Cf  and  became  an  associate  in  the  design.  They 
"  began  the  work,  but  could  make  no  progress; 
<e  for  a  FIRE,  bursting  from  the  foundations,  drove 
<f  away,  and  dispersed  all  concerned  in  the  under- 
"  taking*." 

The  only  contemporary  father,  therefore,  from 
whom  we  can  expect  a  detailed  history  of  the  event, 
is  Gregory  Nazianzen.  For  he,  not  living  at  a  dis 
tance,  like  Ambrose ;  nor  preaching,  like  Chrysostom, 
to  those  who  knew  every  circumstance,  but  residing 
in  these  quarters,  and  writing  in  defence  of  our  holy 
faith,  against  Julian,  in  an  appeal  to  the  Roman 
Empire,  was  both  qualified  by  his  knowledge,  and 
called  upon  by  the  nature  of  his  performance,  to  be 
particular  in  his  relation  of  the  fact. 

Now,  as  his  account  must  undergo  a  severe  scru 
tiny,  it  will  be  but  fair  to  give  it  in  his  own  words. 
Speaking  then  of  Julian,  he  says, 

"  After  having  run  through  a  course  of  every 
"  other  tyrannical  experiment  against  the  Faith,  and, 
"  upon  trial,  despising  all  of  them  as  trifling  and 
«'  contemptible,  he,  at  last,  brought  down  the  whole 
"  body  ot  the  Jews  upon  us ;  whom,  for  their  ancient 

*  — x^    yap    tiri   TJ??    yma?    T»j?    i /*/) e'^a?    o    <eeaivlaq    tlf    uciGtia.? 
tv  ij-uo-iav  TOTS  <rfmvr£a|e,  x^  rS  s^yx  '/jij/a^o f 
i^t'»^6y>(7ax,     aXXa     «7v§    O,TTO    -rut    Septfauy 

vroK  *7r^A«crjr.     Adversus  Judseos  et  Gentiles, 
torn.  i. 

(t  turn 


Chap.  III.]    REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.      in 

"  turn  to  seditious  novelties,  and  an  inveterate  hatred 
"  of  the  Christian  name,  he  chose  as  the  fittest 
"  instruments  of  his  machinations.  These,  under  a 
"  shew  of  great  good  will,  which  hid  his  secret  pur- 
"  pose,  he  endeavoured  to  convince,  from  their  sacred 
"  books  and  traditions,  which  he  took  upon  him 
"  to  interpret*,  that  now  was  come  the  time  fore- 
"  told,  when  they  should  return  to  their  own  Land, 
"  rebuild  their  temple,  and  restore  the  law  to  its 
"  ancient  force  and  splendor.  When  these  things 
"  had  been  thoroughly  insinuated,  and  heartily  en- 
"  tertained  (for  deceit  finds  easy  admittance  when  it 
"  flatters  our  passions),  the  Jews  set  upon  the  work 
"  of  rebuilding  with  great  attention,  and  pushed  on 
"  the  project  with  the  utmost  labour  and  application. 
"  But  when  now  driven  from  their  work  by  a  violent 
"  whirlwind  and  a  sudden  earthquake,  they  fled  tb- 
"  gether  for  refuge  to  «a  certain  neighbouring  church 
"  (some  to  deprecate  the  impending  mischief;  others, 
"  as  is  natural  in  such  cases,  to  catch  at  any  help 
"  that  presents  itself;  and  others,  again,  inveloped 
"  in  the  crowd,  were  carried  along  with  the  body 
"  of  flyers) :  there  are  who  say,  the  church  refused 
"  them  entrance;  and  that  when  they  came  to  the 
"  doors,  which  were  wide  open  but  a  moment  be- 
<c  fore,  they  found  them,  on  a  sudden,  closed  by 
"  a  secret  and  invisible  hand ;  a  hand  accustomed 
"  to  work  these  wonders  for  the  terror  and  confusion 
"  of  the  impious,  and  for  the  security  and  comfort 
"  of  godly  men.  This  however  is  now  invariably 
"  affirmed  and  believed  by  all,  That  as  they  strove 
"  to  force  their  way  in  by  violence,  the  FIRE, 
"  which  burst  from  the  foundations  of  the  temple, 

*  I  think  Gregory   uses  the  word  tTrAini^nv  ironically,   in  the 
sense  of  pretending  to  interpret  with  a  prophetic  spirit, 

"  met 


112     OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  II. 

c*  met  nnd  stopt    them,   and  one  part  it    burnt  and 

'*  destroyed;    and    another   it   desperately    maimed, 

c  leaving  them  a  Iwiug  monument  of  God's  commi- 

*  nation  and'  wrath  against  sinners.     Thus  the  affair 

£  passed  ;  and  let  no  man  continue  incredulous  cou- 

<f  cerning  this,  or  the  other  miraculous  works  of  God. 

"  But  still  the   thing  most  wonderful  and  illustrious 

"  was  a  light,    wmVh  appeared  in   the  heavens,    of 

"  a  Cross  within  a  Circle.     That  name   and  figure, 

'  which  impious  men  before  esteemed  so  dishonour- 

"  able    upon  earth,    was  now   raised  on  high,    and 

"  equally  objected  to  the  common  view  of  all  men  ; 

"  advanced   by  God   himself,   as   the  trophy  of  his 

ic  victory  over  unbelievers  ;  of  all  trophies  the  most 

"  exalted  and  sublime.     Nay  further,  they  who  were 

"  present,   and   partakers  of  the  miracle  we  are  now 

"  about  to    speak    of,    shew,  to  this  very  day,   the 

"  sign  or  figure  of  the  cross  which  was  then  marked 

"  or  impressed   upon  their  garments.     For,  at  that 

"  time,  as   these  men  (whether  such  as  were  of  us, 

"  or   strangers)    were   shewing  these    marks,    or  at- 

"  tending  to  others  who  shewed  them,  each  presently 

"  observed    the    wonder,    either   on  himself  or    his 

"  neighbour  :  having  a  radiant  mark  on  his   body  or 

"  on    his    garment:    in  which  there   was  something 

"  that,    in  art  and  elegance,  exceeded  ail  painting 

"  or  embroidery  *." 

This 


—  sTTEi     «   •arava      i£eA<y   TaAAav,   x     'era*   e«  TXI? 
i^^,  uq    fjux^ov    Tt    x^    a,ymvt<;    ar»/>u*c7af  —  reX^*    ITTCK^^KE    x^    T« 
»    fyvXw   yfAiv,    TY)V  waXatav    TE  uvruv  xtf^ortjla:  xj   TO  y.a$  YI^VV 
ov    iv   a.vTo7$   pXa&'  Qvvt^yoi  Xatw*'   TV  Ti^vu.a'^u\©^y 
TI  ^»?6iv  EX  run  taa,^  ayToK  /3*<oAw>  xj  awo^^nTwr,  &>?  vvv  a,vroTq 
tin  xalsXOirv    elq  T>JV   eot,vlv>,  xj  rov  veuv  a»a^ti//acrOat,  xj  TU* 
'tuv  TO  KeuT'&*  uvoc.viuffuO'Qou,  x^  a7roxpy7r)o/>nv@^  evvoiot,;  ccrAa^/MoIi  T*?f 
,  ITTE*  o^e  Tayra  xj  ^Hk^O^,  x)  iirna-tv-  tvy.ohcv  yot,£  EJ?  avrarr*1    TO 

TO 


Chap.  III.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       113 

This  is  the  only  contemporary  writer  amongst  the 
Christians  who  delivers  the  account  of  the  miracle 
differently  from  Ammianus  Marcellinus,  that  is,  with 
additional  circumstances.  Let  us  see  then  what  handle 
he  hath  given  to  the  objector. 

But  before  we  come  to  examine  what  he  really 
affirms,  and  takes  upon  his  credit  to  support;  it  will 
be  proper  to  set  in  a  true  light  what  he  is  only  supposed 
to  affirm,  and  what  he  does  not  undertake  to  warrant. 

He  tells  us,  it  was  reported,  that  those  who  fled 
for  refuge  to  an  adjoining  church,  whose  doors  were 
wide  open  but  a  moment  before,  found  them  suddenly 
closed  by  an  invisible  power.  ~—  And,  without  question, 
They  who  could  not  then  get  in,  did  believe  the  impedi 
ment  to  be  miraculous.  They  did  not  consider,  that  a 
frighted  crowd,  all  pressing  to  be  foremost,  would  soon 

choke 


ETTI 

\v    TO*{  TfltwTot?      ȣi     voctmiv    ru 


,    uq    «e  TO     tpov   avraq 
Ta?? 

IK  TU@*  KogaTU   x}   a^avas  ^>a/x£Wj,  ^  r 
V    TUV    uffiGuv    ttoAtiirhyZiv,    t      Tut    svo-tS 


K^   «vaAw<7£y—  T«?  ^t  TWV  xcttpiuv    a 

T?;   T»    -^ea    xaTa    TWV    afACtgruhuv    uTTtthyi;   x^   xi»^<r£<yf.  TBTO 


TOTJ 

*To  Tt?  [itr  ar 

^a  to-ap*  lat;!^,  ^  TW   -BrXjjcr»ot> 


i*    TtfTtf   T»    7»»<«I«».    Olftt,  IV,  adv.  Jul,, 

VOL.  VIII,  I 


i  M  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  II. 

choke  up  a  wider  passage  than  the  door 'of  a  little 
oratory,  like  this  where  they  sought  for  refuge,  had 
the  doors  been  still  open.  But  he  tells  us  they  were 
suddenly  closed:  and,  if  they  opened  outward,  the 
power  that  shut  them  could  be  only  invisible  to  a 
blind  crowd,  half  frighted  out  of  their  wits.  And, 
indeed,  Gregory  himself  intimates,  in  the  following 
words  (where  he  speaks  of  the  fiery  eruption)  that  this 
was  riot  the  general  opinion ;  and  particularly  not  his 
own ;  for  he  insinuates  what  he  deemed  to  be  the  true 
cause  of  the  impediment,  in  telling  us  they  strove  to 
force  their  way  in  by  violence.  But  (adds  he)  that 
which  followed,  namely,  the  eruption,  is  now  invari 
ably  affirmed  and  believed  by  all.  As  much  as  to  say, 
time  and  cool  examination,  which  corrected  the  first 
reports,  have  left  the  miraculous  circumstance  of  the 
impediment  doubtful ;  but  have  put  that  of  the  eruption 
out  of  all  question. 

This  being  premised,  we  come  to  the  circumstances 
additional  to  the  account  of  Marcellinus.  Gregory 
mentions  three  :  I .  A  whirlwind  and  earthquake.  2.  The 
light  which  appeared  in  the  heavens  of  a  cross  within 
a  circle ;  and,  3.  The  figure  of  a  cross  on  the  bodies 
and  garments  of  the  workmen  and  assistants.  These, 
indeed,  Gregory  delivers  as  unquestioned  facts,  doubted 
or  contradrcted  by  none :  and  of  so  trite  and  frequent 
mention  in  the  divines  and  historians  of  this  time,  that 
it  is.  observable  he  tells  the  main  fact,  thcfary  eruption, 
not  directly  or  absolutely,  but  only  obliquely  and  occa 
sionally,  for  the  sake  of  a  circumstance  not  so  generally 
known.  Of  all  these,  therefore,  it  will  be  incumbent 
on  us  to  give  some  good  account.  I  shall  try  them  on 
the  test  of  Ammianus's  relation,  as  that  is  made  (though 
only  for  this  purpose)  the  standard  of  the  truth ;  and 
doubt  not  but  they  will  be  all  found  very  credible,  not 
withstanding 


Chap.  III.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       115 

withstanding  their  different  degrees  of  evidence;  the 
first,  the  whirlwind  and  earthquake,  being  necessarily 
connected  with  the  eruption  recorded  by  Ammianus; 
the  second,  the  cross  in  the  heavens,  a  likely  attendant 
on  the  then  unquiet  state  of  the  elements :  and  the 
third,  the  cross  on  the  garments,  very  consonant  to 
what  we  know  of  meteorology. 

1 .  First  then,  as  to  the  earthquake.     Natural  his 
tory  informs  us,  that  fiery  eruptions,  of  which  it  makes 
frequent  mention,   are  always  preceded  by  an  earth 
quake.     And,  indeed,  the  obvious  nature  of  the  thing 
instructs  us,  it  can  hardly  be  otherwise;  the  force  of 
fire  making  its  way  through  a  heavy  load,  opposed  to 
its  explosion,  cannot  but  throw  the  incumbent  earth 
into  convulsive  struggles,  during  the  agitation.     And 
this  tumult  in  the  inferior  elements  must  needs  com 
municate  itself  to  the  adjoining  parts  of  the  superior. 
Hence  it  hath  so  generally  happened,  that  the  disorder 
below  has  been  accompanied  with  the  like  above ;  such 
as  fierce  whirlwinds  and  a  troubled  sky  :  this  was  the 
first  signal  of  the  like  dreadful  conflict  in  the  desolation 
at   Nicomedia,     as   Ammianus   himself  relates   it — 
"  Concreti  nubium  globi  nigrantium,   Icetam   paullo 

1  ante  cceli  speciem  confuderunt,  ventosque  ab  ipsis 
"  excitante  cardinibus,"  Sec.  Thus  far,  therefore, 
Gregory's  account  is  not  only  agreeable  to  the  usual 
course  of  things,  in  their  unquiet  state,  but  the  appear 
ances  are  told  in  their  order ;  the  whirlwind^  the  earth 
quake,  and  the //;*£. 

2.  The  light  which  was  seen  in  the  heavens  of  a  cross 
within  a  circle,  is  the  second  thing  we  are  to  speak 
to.     Of  this  kind  of  phenomenon,  the  ecclesiastical, 
the  civil,  and  the  natural  history,  both  of  ancient  and 
modern  ages,  affords  us  so  many  instances,  that  it  will 

I  2  give 


no     OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  II. 

give  us  very  little  trouble.  Not  to  keep  the  Reader  in 
suspense,  it  was  neither  more  nor  less  than  one  of  those 
meteoric  lights,  in  a  still  and  clouded  sky,  which  are 
not  unfrequently  seen  in  solar  or  lunar  halos  :  And 
when  the  parhelia,  and  paraselenes,  which  sometimes 
attend  them,  are  added  to  that  appearance,  we  can 
easily  conceive  how  greatly  the  pomp  of  them  must.  he 
increased.  To  support  this  account,  we  may  observe, 
that  this  celestial  cross  was  not  seen  till  the  conflict  in 
the  sky  was  over  :  it  being  the  night  after  the  storm, 
and  the  night  after  that,  as  Theodoret  *  informs  us; 
where,  by  the  way,  we  may  observe,  this  was  a  lunar 
halo. 

It  was  the  same  appearance,  from  whence  (as 
Eusebius  and  others  tell  us)  Constantine  the  Great 
-drew  the  happy  presage  of  an  approaching  victory  :  it 
was  the  same  which  Cyril  of  Jerusalem  saw  over  that 
city,  in  the  time  of  his  son  Constantius  ;  to  whom  the 
good  bishop  sent  the  news,  and,  indeed,  endeavoured 
to  make  the  most  of  it.  The  historians  of  the  middle 
ages  have,  at  different  times,  occasionally  mentioned 
the  like  appearances  ;  and,  generally,  mentioned  them 
as  miraculous.  Since  the  revival  of  learning,  the  Natu 
ralists  and  astronomers  have  taken  notice  of  such  as 
happened  in  their  times  ;  and  have  attempted  to  ex 
plain  their  physical  causes. 

But  here  I  find  what  I  had  farther  to  say,  on  this 
subject,  already  done  to  my  hands,  in  a  very  ingenious 
and  learned  discourse  f  of  the  excellent  J.  A.  Fabricius: 
to  which,  with  much  satisfaction,  I  refer  the  Reader: 


Tfc   apavw  rS  ffulr)%'m  r«fg«  TO  C^J^MC,  p*ffofitffi     Eccl.  Hist.  1.  iii. 
C-  20. 

f  Intit.  "  Exercitatio  crilica,  qua  disputatur,  Crucem,  quam 
"  in  ccelis  vidisse  se  juravit  Constantinus  imp.  fuisse  phenomenon 
"  naturale  in  halone  gotari."  Vid.  Bib,  Grsc.  vol.  vi. 

For 


Chap.  III.]    REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.        117 

For  it  is  not  my  way  to  repeat  what  others  have  proved 
before  me ;  or  to  defraud  them  of  the  praises  due  to 
their  discoveries. 

I  will  only  make  one  observation.  All  these  mete 
oric  crosses  are  represented  as  being  encompassed  by 
a  luminous  circle.  A  circumstance,  which,  if  but  com 
monly  attended  to,  would  have  betrayed  their  original. 
But  so  far  from  that,  the  circle  was  brought  as  a  con 
vincing  argument  of  their  being  miraculous.  With  this, 
Gregory  triumphs  *  over  the  mathematicians  or  astro 
logers  ;  and  defies  them  to  account  for  it  by  their  rules 
of  art.  Would  the  reader  know  the  ground  of  so  gross 
a  delusion  ?  It  was  no  more  than  this,  the  circle  was 
so  established  an  emblem  of  victory,  that,  like  one  of 
Epicurus's  Simulacra  (the  exuvite  of  bodies,  as  these 
of  minds),  they  regarded  it  as  the  moral  phantom  that 
proclaimed  Julian's  defeat.  For  figure  and  rhetoric 
had,  in  most  times,  but  especially  in  those,  been  an 
overmatch  for  reason  and  science. 

3.  But  the  last  circumstance  (says  the  objectors)  so 
far  exceeds  all  the  common  length  of  credulity,  that 
its  invention  must  have  put  fancy  to  the  stretch,  and 
even  fraud  itself  to  the  blush :  and  this  is,  the  mark  of 
the  cross  impressed  upon  the  bodies,  or  garments,  of 
the  people  present. 

As  extraordinary  as  this  may  seem,  I  do  not  despair 
of  regaining  those  whom  it  hath  most  revolted. 

But  first  it  will  be  necessary  to  call  in  a  writer  of 
the  next  class,  and  consider  his  words — "  When  there- 
"  fore  (says  Socrates)  a  vast  number  were  assembled 
"  on  the  place,  another  prodigy  happened  ;  for  a  FIRE 
"  FELL  FROM  HEAVEN,  which  consumed  all  the  work- 

«?  TO?   KYICAOX   tv   T-Ts  <rg 
NIKH2  o  5T£$ANOr.      Oral,  iv. 

13 


1  18       OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO   [Book  II. 

"  men's  tools*."  As  this  historian  is  the  only  writer 
who  explicitly  f  mentions  lightning,  and  its  effects  ;  it 
will  be  proper  to  consider  its  credibility.  Under  the 
last  head  we  have  shewn,  how  a  fiery  eruption  must 
occasion  a  previous  earthquake  ;  and  this  earthquake, 
a  stormy  sky.  But  air,  put  into  a  violent  motion, 
always  produces  lightning,  when  it  abounds  with  matter 
susceptible  of  inflammation.  And  those  columns  of 
air,  which  lie  over  places  that  labour  with  convulsive 
throes  to  cast  out  an  enkindled  matter  from  its  entrails, 
must  needs  be  impregnated  with  vast  quantities  of  sul 
phureous  particles,  which  the  earth,  in  that  condition, 
cxsudes  from  its  pores,  and  which  the  solar  heat  draws 
upwards.  But  the  natural  history  of  these  eruptions 
supports  this  reasoning.  And  Ammianus,  whose  evi 
dence  we  have  so  often  appealed  to,  gives  us  an 
example  of  it  in  the  before  cited  case  of  the  earthquake 
at  Nicomedia,  attended,  as  appears  by  his  account, 
with  a  fiery  eruption,  like  that  at  Jerusalem.  Now 
this  historian  tells  us,  that  there,  the  earthquake  was 
preceded  by  lightning,  as  well  as  storms  —  "  Concreti 
<f  nubium  globi  nigrantium,  Jaetam  paullo  ante  coeli 
"  speciem  confuderunt  —  Dein  velut  numine  summo 
"  fat  ales  contorqucnte  rnanubias  ventosque  ab  ipsis 
c<  excitante  cardinibus,  &c.  —  hzecque  secuti  typhones 
<:  atque  pfesteres,  cum  horrifico  tremore  tcrrarum'' 
The  same,  he  affirms  of  that  more  dreadful  earthquake 
which  happened  in  the  first  consulate  of  Valentinian 
and  his,  brother  :  "  Paulo  post  lucis  exortum,  densitate 


av,    mciflcc.    TO,     rwv    clxoMptay    tgystXtU*     diitytosictv. 

Soc.  L.  iii.   c.  20. 

t  Philostorgius,  by  the  mode  of  his  expression  and  by  the 
order  in  which  he  puts  things,  seems  as  if  he  meant  this  fiie,  in 
the  following  words  ;  T£TO  plv  yu.pt  rs'i^  tTrtv^ilo  T«?  Ipy^cijWSas 
T£TO  Si,  o-tivpos  lyjuwviv.  Ex.  Lib.  vii.  c.  9. 

"  pra3via 


Chap.  III.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       119 

<c  praevia  ful^u ruin  acrius  vibratorum  trernefacta  con- 
"  cutitur  oninis  terreni  stabilitas  ponderis*."— 

Lightning  therefore,  we  see,  is  one  of  the  constant 
concomitants  in  this  desolation. 

Now  lightning  is  formed  by  the  ferment  and  explo 
sion  of  sulphureous  and  bituminous  exhalations  from 
the  earth,  mixing  with  nitrous  acids  in  the  air.  And 
as  this  mixture,  or  combination,  is  variously  propor 
tioned,  according  to  the  then  casual  concourse  of  ele 
mentary  particles,  so  its  destructive  effects  are  various. 
Sometimes  it  hath  been  known  to  scorch  up  the  cloaths. 
without  penetrating  the  body ;  and,  sometimes  again, 
to  break  all  the  bones  without  discolouring  the  flesh  or 
cloaths ;  nay,  even  to  melt  the  sword  without  injuring 
the  scabbard.  In  \hejirst  case  we  must  conclude,  the 
sulphur  predominated ;  in  the  latter,  the  salts.  And 
according  to  this  proportion,  the  lightning  in  question 
seems  to  have  been  formed.  For,  they  tell  us,  it 
melted  the  iron  instruments,  but  hurt  neither  the  cloaths 
nor  flesh;  on  which  it  affixed  a  cross,  without  any 
sensible  notice  at  the  time  of  the  impression.  For  I 
make  no  scruple  to  affirm,  that  this  mark  was  the 
natural  effect  of  lightning,  so  constituted. 

That  lightning  falls  in  regular  figures,  hath  been  fre 
quently  observed.  The  most  unlikely,  one  should  think, 
is  the  circular ;  and  yet,  in  that,  it  hath  been  commonly 
known  to  fall :  the  most  likely  is  the  angular,  (and  a 
crow  is  but  two  straight  lines  meeting  at  right  angles); 
yet  this,  though  not  very  rare,  has  been  less  common. 

But,  it  will  be  said,  "  the  fathers  make  it  a  matter 
of  much  more  importance :  and  the  fantastic  things 
they  tell  of  these  crosses  exclude  both  nature  and  sober 
miracle ;  and  admit  of  no  other  cause  but  fraud  or 
fanaticism;  even  though  we  should  substract  from  the 
*  L.  xxvi.  c.  10. 

I  4  account 


i-2o     OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  II. 

account  the  contradictions  that  arise  from  their  joint 
testimony.  Gregory  *  and  Socrates  f  say  these  crosses 
were  shining  and  radiated  :  but  Theodoret  J  tells  us, 
they  were  not  bright  and  shining,  but  shaded  with  a 
dark  colour  :  again,  Ilufinus  and  Socrates  affirm,  they 
were  by  no  means  to  be  washed  out  §." 

All  this,  it  must  be  owned,  hath  the  rank  air  of  in 
ventive  prodigy.  Yet  view  it  well,  and  you  see  nature 
breaking  in  upon  you.  In  a  word,  the  fathers  could 
have  said  nothing  more  corroborative  of  our  account  ; 
which  reduces  them  to  a  natural  phenomenon  :  for 
the  qualities  they  give  to  these  crosses,  not  only  shew 
them  to  be  meteoric,  but  inform  us  of  their  very  specific 
nature  ;  which  was  precisely  that  of  the  PHOSPHORUS. 

They  shone  by  night,  and  were  dark,  and  smokey- 
coloured  by  day  (for  thus,  the  different  accounts  of 
their  appearance,  given  us  by  Gregory  and  Theodoret, 
are  plainly  to  be  reconciled,  by  the  testimony  of 
Rufinus  ||)  the  very  property  both  of  natural  and  arti 
ficial  Phosphori.  Of  i\\ejirst  kind,  are  insects,  rotten- 
wood,  shell-fish,  tainted  flesh  **,  scales,  feathers,  of 
certain  animals,  &c.  Of  the  latter,  that  solid  body, 
in  particular,  made  from  urine  (for  almost  all  bodies 


t   T 

J  Qvx.  m  ptfbf  Qulon$uv,  aAA*  I*  piAawi?  *t^W*iW«C-fur*)| 
L.  iii.  c.  20. 

§  Ut    etiam.  qui  diluere    pro   sui    infidelitate   voluisset,  nullo 
genere  valeret  abolere.     Jluf.  -  anw*vm»  xj  »iro<r^xfiv  &Ao*le?, 

tiO&IH    TpOTTW     V)OVVOtV\0.        SOCT. 

|i  In  sequent!  nocte  in  vestimgntis  omnium   signaculum  crucis 
ita  evidens  apparuit.    Hist.  Eccl.  1.  x.  c.  37. 

*  Hossein  the  son  of  All,  and  grandson  of  Mahomet,  was 
killed  in  aspiring  to  the  throne  in  the  Califate  of  Yesid.  His 
head  was  cut  off  and  carried  by  a  soldier  to  the  governor  of 
Coussah;  as  it  lay  on  a  table,  in  the  night  the  wife  of  the  soldier 
pretended  that  a  lambent  flame  played  about  the  head,  which 
might  very  well  be.  But  this  by  the  Partisans  of  Ali  was 
esteemed  a  great  miracle. 

will 


Chap.  III.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       121 

will  afford  it)  with  which,  if  one  writes,  as  with  a 
pencil  on  paper,  the  letters,  in  the  night,  will  appear 
like  flame,  and,  in  the  day  time,  present  only  a  dim, 
sniokey  suffusion. 

The  reader  will  be  further  confirmed  in  this  opinion, 
if  he  considers  of  what  the  artificial  phosphorus  is 
composed ;  which  is  chiefly  a  fixed  salt,  obtained  by 
a  long  process  by  fire ;  in  the  course  of  which  much 
of  this  element  seems  to  be  imbibed  :  so  as  to  give  the 
minute  parts  of  the  phosphorus  the  proper  motion  and 
agitation  to  produce  light.  Now  the  salts  were  pre 
dominant  in  the  lightning  in  question,  as  appears  by 
its  violent  effects  on  metals,  and  its  innocuous  contact 
with  softer  bodies,  And  we  can  easily  conceive  how 
that  high  ferment,  by  which  lightning  is  formed,  may 
produce  a  natural  phosphorus,  in  the  same  manner  as 
a  long  process  by  fire  makes  the  artificial. 

This  will  account  too  for  the  difficulty  in  washing 
out  the  marks.  Those  on  the  bodies  would  sooner 
disappear ;  those  on  the  habits  more  slowly.  And  it 
is  observable,  that,  though  Gregory  tells  us,  the  curious 
yet  produced  (when  he  wrote)  the  marks  on  the  gar 
ments  ;  he  says  nothing  of  those  on  the  bodies. 

And  now,  I  presume,  the  candid  reader  may  be 
disposed  to  abate  his  wonder,  and  inclined  to  give  the 
fathers  credit  for  the  facts,  how  much  soever  they 
might  be  mistaken  in  the  immediate  cause  of  them  : 
and  the  unbeliever,  from  the  fate  of  so  promising  an 
objection,  may  be  taught  the  use  of  modesty  and  diffi 
dence,  when  he  opposes  his  own  reason  to  the  truths 
that  establish  Revelation. 

But,  to  put  the  matter  farther  out  of  doubt,  I  shall 
produce  a  passage  from  the  Adversaria  of  the  famous 
ISAAC  CASAUBON,  written  while  in  England,  and,  as 
his  son  Meric  conjectures  (to  whom  we  are  indebted 

for 


122      OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  II. 

for  it)  about  the  year  1610-11.  It  follows  in  these 
words  :  "  This  day  the  Lord  Bishop  of  Ely  *,  a  prelate 
"  of  great  piety  and  holiness,  related  to  me  a  won- 
"  derful  thing.  He  said  he  had  received  the  account 
"  from  many  hands,  but  chiefly  from  the  Lord  Bishop 
"  of  Wells,  lately  deadf,  who  was  succeeded  by 
"  Bishop  Montague  ;  that  in  the  city  of  Wdls,  about 
' '  fifteen  years  ago  J,  one  summer's  day,  while  the 
"  people  were  at  divine  service  in  the  cathedral 
"  church,  they  heard,  as  it  thundered,  two  or  three 
"  claps  above  measure  dreadful,  so  that  the  whole 
'*  congregation,  affected  alike,  threw  themselves  on 
"  their  knees  at  this  terrifying  sound.  It  appeared, 
"  the  lightning  fell  at  the  same  time,  but  without  harm 
"  to  any  one.  So  far,  then,  there  was  nothing  but 
"  what  is  common  in  the  like  cases.  The  wonderful 
"  part  was  this,  which  afterwrards  was  taken  notice  of 
"  by  many,  that  the  marks  of  a  CROSS  were  found  to 
"  have  been  imprinted  on  the  bodies  of  those  who 
"  were  then  at  divine  service  in  the  cathedral.  The 
"  Bishop  of  Weils  told  my  Lord  of  Ely,  that  his  wife 
€t  (a  woman  of  uncommon  probity)  came  to  him, 
"  and  informed  him,  as  of  a  great  miracle,  that  she 
"  had  then  the  mark  of  a  cross  impressed  upon  her 
"  body.  Which  tale  when  the  Bishop  treated  as 

*  Doctor  Lane.  Andrews,  afterwards  Bishop  of  Winchester. 

f  Dr.  John  Still. 

t  The  following  note  was  communicated  by  a  learned  friend. 
R.  W. 

"  Hoc  etiam  anno  [1596],  in  agro  Somersettensi,  urbeculas 
"  episcopatis,  cui  a  fontibus  Velles  [Wells]  nomen,  templum — 
4<  die  domlnico,  magna  plebis  frequentia,  fulmine  concussum,  & 
"  ardere  visum ;  ingenti  populi  consternatione,  planctu  &  lamen- 
"  tatione  :  flamma  undique  circumvolitans  omnem  multitudinem 
*'  circumplexa  est,  majore  formidine  quam  damno,  quippe  vestes 
"  &  capilli  ambusti,  intactis  corporibus."  Rob.  Johnston,  Rerun) 
Rritanniearum  Historia,  L.  vii.  p.  223. 

"  absurd. 


Cliap.HI.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.      123 

"  absurd,  his  \vife  exposed  the  part,  and  gave  him 
"  ocular  proof.  He  afterwards  observed,  that  he  had 
"  upon  himself,  on  his  arm  (as  I  take  it)  the  plainest 
<{  mark  of  a  fa  Others  had  it  m  the  shoulder,  the 
"  breast,  the  back,  or  other  parts.  This  account 
t(  that  great  man,  my  Lord  of  Ely,  gave  me  in  such 
'  a  manner,  as  forbade  me  even  to  doubt  of  its 
"  truth*." 

Here,  then,  we  h;ive  the  very  same  event,  happening 
from  the  same  cause,  the  burst  cf  lightning.  The 
only  difference  is,  that  htre  the  cross  appeared  upon 
the  bodies  only  :  there  both  on  the  cloaths  and  bodies. 
A  difference  which  the  more  or  less  subtilty  of  the 
meteoric  matter  would  occasion. 

The  fact,  we  find,  is  as  well  attested  as  a  fact  can 
possibly  be.  A  bishop,  of  the  greatest  name  in  his 

*  Rem  miram  mihi  narrabat  hodic  Dom.  Episcopus  Eliensis, 
sanctae  pietatis  Antistes.  Dicebat  se  acccpisse  a  ruultis,  sed 
praecipue  a  Dorn.  Episcopo  Vellensi  nuper  mortuo,  cm  successit 
Dom.  Montacutus:  evenisse  ante  annos  circiter  xv,  in  urbe  Wella, 
give  en  dicenda,  Valla,  die  quadain  oestiva,  ut,  dum  in  Ecclesia 
Cathedral!  populus  sacris  vacabat,  duo  vel  tria  tonitrua  inter  plura 
audircntur,  supra  modum  horrenda,  ita  ut  populus  universus  in 
genua  /*i«  off**  procum beret  ad  ilium  sonurn  terribilem.  Con- 
stitit  fulmen  simul  cecidisse,  sine  cujusquam  damno  tamen.  Atque 
liaec  vulgaria.  Jllud  admirandum,  quod  postea  est  observatum  a 
niultis,  repcrtas  esse  crucis  imagines  impressas  corporibus  eorum, 
qui  in  aede  sacra  tum  fuerint.  Dicebat  Episcopus  Vallensis  D. 
Kliensi,  uxorem  suain  (bonestissima  ea  luniiina  tint)  venisse  ad  se, 
et  ei  narrasse  pro  grandi  miraculo  sibi  in  corpore  impressa  ^J< 
signaextare;  quod  cum  risu  cxciperet  Episcopus,  uxor,  nudato 
corpore,  ei  probavit  verum  esse  quod  dixerat.  Deinde  ipse  ob- 
servavit  sibi  quoque  ejusdem  ^  manifestissimam  imaginem  im- 
pi essain  esse,  in  bracbio,  opinor :  aliis  in  humero,  in  pectore,  in 
dorso,  aut  alia  corporis  parte.  Hoc  vir  inaximus,  Dorn.  Eliensis, 
ita  mihi  narrabat,  ut  vetaret  de  veritate  historic  ambigere.  Ex. 
Advers.  Is.  Casaubon.  apud  Mer.  Casaubon.  in  tract,  intit.  Of 
Credulity  and  Incredulity,  p.  118. 

time 


124    OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  II. 

time  for  virtue  and  knowledge,  receives  it  from  an 
eye- witness,  and  a  party  concerned,,  a  bishop  likewise 
of  an  irreproachable  character,  and  tells  it  to  a  man 
whose  candid  honesty  and  well-digested  learning  had 
rendered  him  one  of  the  greatest  ornaments  of  the 
age  in  which  he  lived.  This  account  his  son,  a  man 
of  learning  likewise,  and  of  approved  integrity,  finds 
under  his  father's  own  hand,  in  his  Adversaria,  and 
gives  it  to  the  world  ;  with  this  additional  information, 
that  lie,  the  son,  who  had  been  beneficed  in  Somerset 
shire,  had  never  heard  the  fact  disputed,  but  had 
frequently  met  with  several  who  pretended  to  a  perfect 
knowledge  of  it. 

'i  o  this  let  me  add,  that  religion  was  out  of  the 
question.  Here  was  no  church,  or  churchman,  no 
sect  or  doctrine,  to  be  confuted  or  established,  by  the 
attestation  of  a  prodigy.  The  great  critic  speaks  of 
it  as  a  physical,  though  a  wonderful  event.  The  very 
bishops  deliver  it  to  one  another,  and  to  him,  as  only 
an  escape  of  nature.  The  bishop's  wife  indeed,  at 
first,  seemed  a  little  planet-struck  with  superstition; 
and  while  she  thought  herself  only  distinguished  with 
this  badge  of  sanctity,  was  very  willing  it  should  pass 
for  a  miracle.  But  the  honest  bishop  laughed  her 
out  of  this  conceit :  and  when  she  found  how  small 
a  part  of  the  honour  was  likely  to  fall  to  her  share, 
she  seemed  content  to  submit  it  to  her  husband's  better 
judgment. 

Now,  as  religion  and  religious  purposes  had  nothing 
to  do  in  this  wonder,  that  extraordinary  philosopher  *, 
once  before  quoted,  will  permit  us  to  give  it  credit. 

It  is  indeed  so  well  proved,  as  to  bear  much  weightier 
observations  than  any  I  have  to  lay  upon  it :  what  I 
have  to  say  being  only  this,  i .  That  the  two  or  three 

*  The  author  of  Philosophical  Essays,  Sec. 

dreadful 


Chap.  III.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.      12;, 

dreadful  explosions  perfectly  agree  with  what  hath 
been  observed  of  the  componency  of  that  lightning 
which  produces  such  an  effect;  namely,  that  it 
abounded  with  nitrous  and  fixed  salts.  2.  The  rela 
tion  says,  it  was  some  time  after  that  the  crosses 
were  found  upon  the  bodies  of  the  patients ;  and  that 
the  bishop  observed  one  upon  himself  on  talking  with 
his  wife  about  it.  This  may  give  light  to  a  passage 
in  Gregory,  which  has  the  air  of  mystery,  and  yet 
amounts  to  no  more  than  what  the  simpler  and  less 
sublime  pen  of  this  modern  critic  explains.  The 
words  of  Gregory  are  these :  As  they  were  shewing 
these  marks,  or  attending  to  others  who  shewed  them, 
each  presently  observed  the  wonder,  either  on  himself 
or  his  neighbour ;  a  radiant  mark  on  his  body  or  his 
garment. 

But  suppose  it  should  be  said,  ec  That  the  circum 
stance  of  lightning,  on  which  wre  pretend  to  explain 
this  phenomenon,  is  not  sufficiently  established  ;  as 
it  is  mentioned  but  by  one  historian ;  and  only  in  two 
words ;  and  by  the  general  name  of  a  fire  from 
Heaven."  Whoever  says  it,  will  gain  little,  if  his 
design  be  to  invalidate  the  circumstance ;  and  yet- 
less,  if  he  thinks  that  the  discredit  of  that  circum 
stance  will  deprive  us  of  the  means  of  accounting  for 
the  crosses.  For  it  appears,  from  the  nature  of  things 
already  explained,  that  a  fire  from  beneath  might 
produce  this  effect  as  naturally  as  a  Jire  from  above. 
And  by  a  relation,  as  well  attested  and  notorious  as 
the  fact  preserved  in  Casaubon,  wre  have  a  famous 
instance  of  its  having  actually  produced  it.  The 
excellent  Mr.  BOYLE,  in  his  discourse  of  some  un 
heeded  causes  of  the  insalubrity  and  salubrity  of  the 
air,  gives  us  the  following  history  from  Kircher  arid 
others : — "  And  that  the  subterraneal  effluvia  may 

<c  produce 


126     OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  II. 

(t  produce  effects,  and  therefore  probably  be  of  na- 
u  tures  very  uncommon,  irregular,  and,  if  I  may  so 
"  speak,  extravagant,  may  appear  in  those  prodigious 
"  CROSSES  that  were  seen   in  our  time,  viz.   in  the 
"  year   iGfio,  in  the   kingdom   of  Naples,  after  the 
"  eruption  of  the  fiery  mountain  Vesuvius ;  of  which 
"  prodigies  the  learned  Kircherus   has  given   an  ac- 
"  count  in  a  particular  Diatribe  :  for  these  crosses 
"  were    seen    on   linen -garments,    as    shirt-sleeves, 
"  women's  aprons,  that  had  lain  open  to  the  air,  and 
"  upon   the    exposed   parts    of    sheets ;    which    is 
"  the  less  to  be  admired,  because,  as  Kircher  fairly 
"  guesses,  the  mineral  vapours  were,  by  the  texture 
"  that  belongs   to  linen  (which   consists  of  threads 
"  crossing  one  another,  for  the  most  part,  at  or  near 
"  right   angles)  easily  determined   to    run   along  in 
"  almost  straight  lines,  crossing  each  other,  and  con- 
"  sequently  to   frame   spots   resembling  some   one, 
"  and  some   another  kind   of  crosses.     These  were 
"  extremely  numerous   in  the  several  parts   of  the 
"  kingdom  of  Naples ;  insomuch  that  the  Jesuit,  that 
"  sent  the  relation  to  Kircher,  says,  that  he  himself 
"  found  thirty  in  one  altar-cloth,  that  fifteen  were 
"  found  upon  the  smock-sleeve  of  a  woman,  and  that 
"  he  reckoned  eight  in  a  boy's  band  :  also  their  colour 
"  and  magnitude  were  very  unequal,  and  their  figures 
"  discrepant,    as  may  appear  by  many  pictures  of 
"  them  drawn  by  the  relator ;  they  would  not  wash 
"  out  with  simple  water,  but  required  soap ;  their  dura- 
(t  tion  was  also  unequal,  some  lasting  ten  or  fifteen  days, 
"  and  others  longer -,  before  they  disappeared  *." 

l .  The  first  observation  I  shall  make  on  this  curious 
narrative,  is,  that  these  Vesuvian  crosses  appear  to 

*  Works  of  Mr.  Boyle,  in  folio,  vol.  iv.  p.  293. 

have 


Chap.  III.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.      127 

have  been  impressed  only  on  the  garments,  and  not 
on  the  bodies :  just  contrary  to  those  occasioned  by 
the  lightning  at  Wells;  which  were  on  the  bodies, 
and  not  on  the  garments :  while  the  Julian  crosses 
appeared  on  both.  The  reader,  therefore,  if  he 
likes  it,  may  suppose,  without  any  absurdity,  that  in 
the  case  at  Jerusalem,  the  crosses  on  the  bodies 
were  caused  by  the  lightning ;  and  the  crosses  on  the 
garments,  by  the  eruption  from  the  foundations. 

2.  The  Vesuvian  crosses  were  extremely  numerous*, 
which  agrees  well  with  the  relations  of  Sozomene 
and  Theodoret,  the  last  of  whom  says,  their  garments 
were  filled  with  them. 

3.  These   Vesuvian    crosses   were   hardly   to    be 
washed  out :  which  exactly  agrees  with  what  Socrates 
and  Rufinus  tell  of  the  same  remarkable  quality  in 
the  crosses  at  Jerusalem. 

4.  Lastly,  we  understand,  that  the  marks  of  some 
of  these  were  of  considerable  duration ;  as  were  those 
mentioned  by  Gregory  Nazianzene ;  which,  he  says, 
continued  to  the  time  he  wrote. 

So  much  then  for  the  contemporary  evidence; 
which,  though  fathers  of  the  church,  are  come  off, 
we  see,  with  honour  :  and  most  so  in  a  circumstance 
of  a  very  delicate  nature. 

In  the  next  class  are  Rufinus,  Socrates,  Sozomene 
and  Theodoret.  And  all  they  add  to  the 'miraculous 
of  Gregory's  relation,  are  these  two  particulars : 
i.The  lightning,  or  a  fire  from  Heaven,  mentioned  by 
Socrates.  And,  2.  this  other  circumstance,  told  us 
by  Theodoret,  that  when  they  began  to  dig  the  founda 
tions,  and  carry  out  the  earth,  an  incredible  number 
of  people  tu as  employed  all  day  long  upon  the  work* 
But  in  the  night,  the  earth,  thus  taken  out,  returned, 

of 


1  28     OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  If. 

of  its  own  accord,  from  the  valley  into  which  it  had 
been  thrown*'. 

The  case  of  the  lightning  hath  been  considered 
already,  where  it  was  brought  in  to  explain  the  nature 
of  the  crosses.  And,  on  that  occasion,  its  close  con 
nexion  with  the  rest  of  the  phenomena  was  examined 
and  explained. 

What  rests  to  be  accounted  for  is  only  the  Jilting 
again  of  the  foundations  with  the  earth  that  had  been 
thrown  out.  And  this  appears  to  be  one  of  those 
natural  events,  which,  when  men's  minds  are  possessed 
with  miracles  (whether  real  or  imaginary)  they  are 
wont  to  explain  into  prodigies  :  of  the  same  nature 
and  origin/doubtless,  with  that  imagination  in  Gregory, 
that  when  the  crowd,  which  were  tumultuously  breaking 
into  the  church,  had  stopped  up  the  passage,  they 
were  kept  back  by  an  invisible  hand.  For  admit  the 
fact  as  Theodoret  relates  it,  that  the  foundations  were 
filled  again,  and  the  valley,  into  which  the  earth 
had  been  thrown,  was  emptied;  nothing  was  more 
natural  than  for  an  earthquake  to  do  both,  if  it  did 
any  thing  at  all.  The  usual  effect  it  is  observed  to 
produce,  being  an  entire  alteration  in  the  face  of 
things;  such  as  the  filling  what  is  empty,  and  the 
emptying  what  is  full.  Cassiodorus,  called  the  Senator, 
(who  abridged  the  Tripartite  History  which  Epipha- 
nius  Scholasticus  composed  out  of  those  of  Socrates, 
Sozomene,  and  Theodoret),  smooths  what  looked  too 
rugged  in  this  miracle,  by  the  lightness  and  currency 
of  his  expression,  nocte  vero  spontanea  terra  de  valle 
crescebat  f  ;  suffering  the  reader  to  go  at  his  pleasure 


r    ETTi*   oi    opi/r^jy  rifZetflo    K^  Tot  %av  ixtyopeTv,  qawnyiyiw  ^.tv 
eofuv  (Avpnx,of$  tPoXActi.    vi/xlug    ot    o   p^y?    ot.vTQ[A(4Tv$    Mfo  TJJJ  ^apa/ 

p/l/lttolo.     Eccl.  Hist.  L.  iii.  c,  20. 
t  L.  vi.  c.  43. 

into 


Chap.  III.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       129 

into  the  solution  here  given  ;  In  support  of  which  it 
will  be  proper  to  observe,  that  the  shocks  of  the 
earthquake  were  repeated  at  different  times.  Gregory, 
we  see,  tells  us  of  one  which  happened  by  day,  when 
the  labourers  were  driven  for  refuge  to  a  neighbouring 
church.  On  the  other  hand,  Socrates  as  expressly 
mentions  one  by  night  *  :  the  very  same  (as  appears 
from  the  similarity  of  the  effects)  which  Socratea 
speaks  of,  in  these  words  :  On  the  coming  day,  when 
they  were  to  beg  hi  with  the,  foundation,  a  great  earth 
quake  happened  f  :  Sozomene's  cast  out  stones  from 
the  foundation  ;  so  did  that  of  Socrates  £.  It  over* 
turned  a  portico,  and  crushed  to  death  several  who 
were  then  abiding  in  it  §  :  And  this  .Theodoret  ex 
pressly  says  happened  by  night,  and  to  men  asleep  ||. 

The  order,  or,  to  speak  more  properly,  casual 
disposition  of  Theodoret's  relation,  is  this  :  —  The  mi 
raculous  filling  again  of  the  foundations  —  The  disper 
sion  of  the  lime  and  sand  by  tempests  —  The  earth 
quake  —  After  that  the  eruption,  and  then,  for  a  close, 
the  fall  of  the  portico. 

From  hence  I  would  observe,  i.  That,  though 
Theodoret,  by  the  turn  of  his  expression,  would  seem 
to  insinuate,  that  the  eruption  followed  the  earth* 
quake  very  speedily  **  ;  yet  we  %see,  by  Sozomene, 

L.  iii.  cap.  2O. 


yii/tcrQou  fAiyotv.      L.  V.    C.  22. 
J  'Avs£pa.o-t  TB?  ?u9«<j  ruv  isv.\tt.t  dipfltof  T«  »a£.     Socrat* 

'Two  <&  xXoi/a  r55?  yrk  ix  (Scifyuv  u,vx$otowaii  T«?  AtOsf.      Sozom. 
§  Ka*    ^/xocrtai    Sroa*     \v     oils  xariXwoi*   aSfoov    xalippyjj^a*    t£    o» 

t  f*\v  avr'uia,  aTruhoflo,    &c.      Sozom. 
Ka<    Ni/xlw^   ^e    «fra/A9roM«>    iv    tin    tfff^cc^aervt  xrftv&flvr 

ootu  TO   of 
.     Theodor. 


o*,   &C. 

Vox.,  VIII.  K  ther» 


130    OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  II. 

there  was  a  considerable  space  between  ;  sufficient  to 
clear  again  the  foundations  from  the  ruin  they  had 
suffered  *.  But  lest  it  should  be  said  (as  it  hath 
been  observed  there  were  shocks  of  an  earthquake  at 
different  times)  this  might  be  what  immediately  pre 
ceded  that  eruption,  it  will  be  proper  to  take  notice, 
that  the  reflection  Theodoret  makes  upon  it  is  the 
very  same  with,  end,  indeed,  appears  to  be  borrowed 
from,  what  Socrates  makes  on  the  earthquake,  which 
he  expressly  says  happened  by  night  "\.  Now,  be 
tween  this,  and  the  eruption,  he  tells  us,  there  was 
time  sufficient  for  many  to  come  out  of  the  country 
to  Jerusalem,  whither  the  fame  of  the  earthquake  had 
brought  them.;]].  But  Theodoret's  own  expression 
helps  us  to  ascertain  the  thing.  He  says  the  fire 
broke  out,  I  x  ru*  ifwvopivw  S^AUM,  from  the  founda 
tions  which  were  ready  dug,  in  order  to  be  built 
upon,  which  supposes  what  Sozomene  says,  to  be  true, 
that  there  was  time  to  repair  the  disorders  which  that 
shock  of  the  earthquake  had  occasioned. 

And  thus  Cassiodorus  understood  him  :  For,  speak 
ing,  as  we  observed  above,  of  this  miraculous  return 
of  the  earth,  he  says,  every  thing  was  prepared  anew  §. 

By  this  time  the  Reader  begins  to  see  day,  through 
the  thick  confusion  of  Theodoret's  cloud  of  circum 
stances  :  in  which,  his  addition  of  the  wonderful,  in 


2f  $1  o-tiuv  ih-ffav  o  ©so?,  aSSi?  iwetpwvlo  ra  s'pya  ot 
ciwvvla,    Icr7ra£a£ov.  Xoy®*   a*   apa,  re    TO    frturtpov   t 
spy?,  ^  <mv^t  &c.     Sozom. 

•f  AE'*^  ^i  EX  rS  yEvo/xsva  'la^ailtn;  xaTEAa^c.      Socrat. 

Kat  T«S  -oravJsAw?  «/x,t;^Ta?  ruv  Stiuv  Ixctvus  JtolsVA^Iey.     Theodor. 
J  Kat   (pvi(Av>    £7rt    rov    TOTTOV   ?ye  xj  TS?  TEroppo;  itaywla?,   'moifovlfAy  ti» 
fffpofya,  woAAwv  trsfov  Ttpdrwv  iirtytvilcu.  tyv^  yot%,  &C.      Socrat. 

§  Nocte  vero  spontanea  terra  de  valle  crescebat.  Solutis  itaque 
.  prioris  etiam    fundament!  reliquiis,   nova    omnia    preparabant. 
L.  vi,  c.  43. 

filling 


Chap.  III.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       131 

filling  again  the  works,  amounts  only  to  this,  that  an 
earthquake,  in  the  night,  tumbled  some  rubbish  into 
the  foundations ;  and  forced  some  out  from  a  valley 
into  which  it  had  been  thrown. 

The  disjointed  parts   in   Gregory,    Socrates,    and 
Sozomene;  and   which  are  still  further  distorted  by 
Theodoret,  the  Latin  Historian  Rufinus  fairly  reduces 
to  their  place.     "  Behold  (says  he)  in  the  night,  the 
last  that  preceded  the  day  for  laying  the°founda- 
tion,  a  prodigious  earthquake  arises,  by  which,  not 
'  only  the  stones  of  the  foundations  are  cast  abroad 
'  and  dispersed,  but  almost  all  the  edifices,  that  were 
about  the   place,  are  thrown  down  and  levelled. 
Public  porticos  also,  in  which  a  great  multitude  of 
c  Jews,  who  were  observed  to  push  on  the  work  with 
(  most  vigour,  had  their  abode,  being  thrown  down, 
'  bury  all  that  are  found  under  them  in  their  ruins  *." 
Thus  Rufinus,   by  fairly  putting  together  tiie  several 
parts  of  one  event,    hath   shewn,    that  levelling  the 
ground,    and    overthrowing    the    porticos,    were   the 
simple  consequences  of  the  earthquake  :  while  Theo 
doret,  by  disjointing  them,  and  delivering  the  effects 
separately,    and    without  their  common  "cause,   hath 
made  two  miracles  out  of  one  natural  event. 

The  Reader  now  sees  what  the  FATHERS  have  to 
say  on  the  occasion.  He  has  had  their  testimony 
laid  at  large  before  him.  Let  us  stop  a  moment 
then,  and 'cast  a  general  eye  upon  the  whole.  I  per- 

*  Ecce,  Nocte,  quae  ad  incipiendum  opus  jam   sola  restabut 
Terr*    motus  ingens    oboritur,    et    non   solum    fundamentorum 
*axa  longeque  lateque  jactantur,  verum  etiam  totius  pene   loci 
aedificia    complanantur.     Porticus    quoque    public*,    in    quibus 

isorum  multitude,  qua:  operi  videbatur  insistere  com- 
mauebat,  ad  solum  deduct*,  omnes  Judffos,  qui  reper'ti  sunL 
oppressors,  L,  x.  c,  37,  &c. 


OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  II. 

suade  myself  we  shall  see  such  a  concurrence  and 
consistency  in  the  accounts  of  the  TWO  PARTIES;  so 
perfect  an  agreement  between  the  Pagan  testimony, 
and  \\\Q  first  class  of  Christian  writers ;  so  close  a  de 
pendency  between  these  and  the  second  class ;  and  such 
a  connection  and  enchainment  of  one  fact  to  another, 
throughout  the  whole,  as  will  force  the  most  backward 
to  confess,  that  the  hand  of  God  was  of  a  truth  in  this 
wonderful  defeat. 

Ammianus  Marcellinus,  Julian,  and  Ambrose,  speak 
simply  of  the  fiery  eruption ;  Chrysostorn  goes  one 
step  further,  and  tells  us  of  its  fatal  effects.  Gregory 
enters  more  minutely  into  the  affair :  he  ushers  it  in 
with  what  is  always  found  to  be  the  precursors  of 
this  dreadful  judgment,  storms  and  earthquakes : 
and  closes  the  scene  with  two  meteoric  phenomena, 
likely  enough  to  succeed  it,  though,  indeed,  not  so 
much  in  the  way  of  common  observation. 

The  following  writers,  Rufinus,  Socrates,  Sozo- 
mene,  and  Theodoret,  add  little  to  these  relations. 
But  the  manner  in  which  they  tell  their  story  (at  the 
same  time  that  it  confirms,  and  explains  the  accounts 
of  those  who  went  before)  proves  they  are  not  mere 
transcribers  .o  •  their  predecessors;  at  least  not  from 
such  of  them  as  now  remain ;  which  amounts  to  the 
same  as  if  th  henaselves  were  original. 

Thus,  for  instance,  Gregory,  indeed,  mentions  the 
cross  upon  the  garments ;,  but  it  is  to  Socrates  only, 
who  speaks  of  the  lightning,  that  we  owe  the  know 
ledge  of  the  cause. 

So  again,  Gregory  calls  them  lucid  crosses  ;  but 
we  are  indebted  to  Rufinus,  Socrates,  and  Theodoret, 
for  the  discovery  of  their  specific  nature ;  who  tell  us, 
that  they  shone  by  night,  were  dark  coloured  bv  day, 
could  not  easily  be  washed  out. 

This 


Chap.  III.]    REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       133 

This  will  lead  us  to  observe  another  mark  of  truth 
in  these  relations ;  That  the  most  wonderful  circum 
stances,  such  as  the  qualities  of  these  crosses,  and  the 
lucid  circle  round  the  aerial  cross  (circumstances  which 
might  seem  to  be  made  at  pleasure  for  the  sake  of  the 
marvellous)  prove  to  be  the  very  qualities  which  be 
long  physically  to  their  respective  natures. 

Nay,  where  their  prepossessions  had  led  them  to 
find  prodigies  in  accidents  the  most  common ;  as 
where  Gregory  ascribes  the  impediment  to  enter  the 
church-doors  to  an  invisible  hand;  and  Theodoret, 
the  filling  up  the  foundations,  to  be  the  return  of  the 
same  earth  back  to  its  post;  they  have  themselves 
honestly  recorded  those  very  facts  which  enable  us  to 
rectify  their  mistakes :  Thus  the  confusion  of  the  crowd, 
which  Gregory  mentions,  when  they  were  endeavouring 
tumultuously  to  force  their  way,  very  naturally  ac 
counts  for  the  impediment:  and  the  earthquake, 
Theodoret  speaks  of,  could  not  but  produce  that  new 
face  in  the  foundations,  which  he  took  to  be  mira 
culous. 

Once  more.  The  fathers  indeed  record  many 
dreadful  circumstances :  but  then  none  of  them  prove 
false  terrors.  If  there  were  storms  and  tempests, 
they  do  their  work ;  the  sand  and  lime  are  dispersed : 
When  the  lightning  falls,  the  tools  and  instruments 
of  building  are  consumed  and  melted :  the  earthquake 
overthrows  porticos  r  The  Jiery  eruption  tears  in 
pieces  the  foundations  :  and  not  one  of  these  attacks 
upon  impiety,  but  what  disperses,  maims,  or  destroys 
the  assembled  workmen,  and  their  abettors. 

After  this  too  we  are  told,  the  various  effects  it  had 
upon  the  minds  of  all,  how  differently  soever  interested. 
This  is  of  more  importance  than  appears  at  first  sight. 
Invention  and  fable  is  not  wont  to  go  thus  far.  It  inn y 

K  3  tell 


134      OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  II. 

tell  us  of  appearances  ;  but  it  will  never  venture  to 
speak  of  effects,  which  the  hearer  could  immediately 
disprove.  That  which  has  a  fairy  entrance,  has  a 
fairy  exit.  Here  the  effects  are  mentioned  that  the 
truth  may  be  examined.  C^rysostome  actually  ap 
peals,  for  the  reality  of  the  eruption,  to  the  sight  of  the 
burnt  and  shattered  foundations,  and  to  the  maimed 
and  scorched  survivors  amongst  the  workmen.  And 
All  of  them  might  have  appealed,  for  the  reality  of 
the  storms  and  lightning  (which  dispersed  the  lighter 
materials,  and  consumed  the  heavier,  together  with 
the  tools  and  instruments  of  work)  to  the  conduct  of 
Julian  and  Alypius  :  For  what  other  reason  can  be 
assigned,  I  do  not  say,  for  their  deferring,  but  for 
their  giving  up,  the  whole  enterprize  *  ? 

Having  now  discoursed  so  largely  on  the  several 
circumstances  of  this  event,  and  yet  (by  reason  of  the 
occasional  mention  of  them)  not  having  been  able  to 
preserve  the  order  in  which  they  happened;  it  may 
tend  to  support,  or  at  least  to  illustrate,  what  hath 
been  already  said,  if  we  give  a  general  view  of  them 
in  one  continued  and  connected  relation. 

And  here  our  principal  Guide  will  be  the  nature  of 
the  phenomena  :  for  though  the  Christian  Writers  will 
not  be  useless,   yet  their  perpetual  violation  of  the 
order  of  time  makes  it  necessary  to  regulate  their  ac 
counts  on  the  reason  of  things. 

In  excuse  of  their  conduct,  something  is  to  be 
ascribed  to  the  literary  genius  of  those  times,  which 
was  inaccurate  and  immethodical  ;  something  to  the 
nature  of  their  evidence,  collected  from  discourses, 
where  the  mention  of  this  illustrious  event  is  only 


ffM  la«o*  >c  yji^,    /-uee?  TO  tgyov 

Soz.  L.  V.   C.  22.  —  Ka*  ctvrov    ['l«Ata*oy]    x}  ra?    'la<5ata$    sis  i 

*?  wxfmt  k«fliff^*wfo    Pbilost,  Hist.  Eccl.  1.  vii.  c.  9. 

brought 


Chap.  III.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       135 

brought  in  to  support  some  particular  point  of  doctrine 
or  morality  then  in  question  ;  but  the  principal  source 
of  their  neglect  of  order,  was  a  false  persuasion  that 
every  circumstance  was  miraculous  and  out  of  nature. 
This  hindered  them  from  inquiring  into  the  order  of 
time,  and  would  have  prevented  them  from  finding  it, 
had  they  been  disposed  to  inquire.     Besides,  the  con 
fusion  of  time  supported  their  system  of  the  miraculous, 
by  separating  the  causes  from  the  effects  :  and  the  re 
gulation  of  it  would  hav€  looked  like  an  impiety,   as 
seeking  for  that  in  nature  whose  source  was  only  in 
God.     This  too  will  account  why  the  fault  was  not 
reformed  by  the  Historians  who  followed  the  original 
evidence;    and  whose  business  it  was  to   reduce  to 
order  the  confusion  in  the  occasional  works  of  their 
predecessors.    However,  whether  the  miracles  became 
casually  multiplied  by  a  neglect  of  chronology,  or  that 
they  purposely  neglected  it,  in  order  to  multiply  them  ; 
yet  multiplied  they  were  ;  as  we  have  shewn,   in  our 
inquiry  into  the  nature  of  the  circumstances.     And 
nothing  can  better  support  the  truth  of  the  deduction 
arising  from  this  inquiry,  than  the  placing  each  circum 
stance  in  the  order  in  which  it  happened.     This  we 
shall  now  endeavour  to  do. 

i.  The  first  signs  the  Almighty  gave  of  his  approach 
ing  judgment,  were  the  storms,  tempests,  -and  whirl 
winds.  For  the  incumbent  air  could  not  but  be  affected 
with  the  ferment,  at  that  time  working  in  the  earth, 
and  exsuding  through  its  pores.  These  instruments  of 
vengeance  performed  their  office,  in  the  dispersion  ot 
the  loose  materials  *. 


j  $1  x^  yv-^x  x}  T/Ia 

o»   /3tatot   *arvivor»vlts>    tffxtrxs  »QgQV<;    l^xe^acrav.    ilieod, 

Hist.  Keel.  1.  iii.  c.  20. 

K  2.  After 


OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  II. 

2.  After  these  followed  the  lightning,  the  usual  con 
sequence  of  the  clash  and  collision  of  clouds,  driven 
forcibly  together  by  storms  and  tempests.    The  effects 
this  produced  were,  jirst,  destroying  the  more  solid 
materials,  and  melting  down  the  iron  instruments  *  : 
and  secondly,  impressing  that  prodigious  mark  on  the 
bodies  and  garments  of  the   assistants.     For   what 
Socrates  says  is  remarkable,  that  the  night  after  (for 
this  lightning,  by  his  account,  was  in  the  day)  the 
shining  crosses  appeared  upon  their  garments  f  :  which 
•was  as  boon  as  they  could  appear,  with  that  eclat. 
But  it  may  not  be  improper  to  observe,  that  Rufinus 
seems  to  have  mixed  together  the  fire  from  heaven 
and  the  fire  from  the  earth  ;  for  he  gives  all  the  effects 
of  both  fire?,  mentioned  by  others,  to  the  single  one  he 
himseif  speaks  of^. 

3.  The  earthquake  came  next  :  which,  Socrates  says, 
happened  in  the  nighi  '§;   that  night,  in  which  the 
marks  upon  the  garments  were  first  observed.     Its 
effect^  were  these.     It  cast  out  the  stones  of  the  old 
foundations  (which  gave  occasion  to  a  remark,  that 

*  TIvp  yoc.%    ef   'OYPANOY    xoflot,y>t-n\l'X,v,    ttrciflot    rat   run    olx.ooofj.uy 
.    htyvtiftv.    riv    ySv     iSsu    iwo    TJJIJ    p^oyoj    cc?ro\*.v[j.Eva.<;    ra-q 


ojot,    ttpos    TO    tgyov  *sirilvi$6 
1.  iii.    c.  20. 

t  Keel    yu,%    rv>    l^pivy    «;«!*, 
i^ali:^    ct-vruv   Ivlil^Tru^ivon    i(pdiv/.p-ciit.      L.  iii.    c.  2O. 

J  jEdes  erat  quaed-im  —  in  qua  ferrameuta  aliaque  open  neces- 
Baria  servabaniur;  e  qua  subito  globus  quidam  ignis  emicuit,  et 
per  medium  plaieae  percurrens,  adustis  et  exterminatis  qui  aderant 
Juda?is,  ultra  citraque  ferebatur.  Hoc  iterum  saepiusque  et  fre- 
qoentissime  per  totum  ilium  diem  repeteris,  pertinacis  populi 
temeritatcm  flummis  ultricibus  coercebat  —  insequenti  nocte  in 
yestimeiitis  omnium  ?ignaculum  crucis,  &c.  L.  x.  c,  37. 

§  Ko»i  hot  r^f  Nwjlof  CticpQs  ptyot<;  iireyuoptv©')  ctvtGpours  ra? 
&C,  L.  iii.  C.  2O. 

the 


Chap.  III.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       137 

the  prophecy  of  Jesus  was  now  literally  fulfilled)  ;  it 
shook  the  earth  into  the  new-dug  foundation  (of  which 
Theodoret,  we  see,  made  a  miracle)  ;  and  it  overthrew 
the  adjoining  buildings  and  porticos. 

4.  Then  followed  the  fiery  eruption  *,  which  de 
stroyed  and  maimed  so  many  of  the  workmen  and 
assistants  ;  and  at  length  forced  the  undertakers  to  give 
over  the  attempt  as  desperate  f  .  But  it  is  to  be  ob 
served,  that  this  eruption  was  attended  both  with 
stoi^ns  and  tempests  above,  and  with  an  earthquake. 
below  ;£.  This,  Gregory,  an  original  evidence,  directly 
affirms  ;  and  it  is  altogether  consonant  to  the  nature 
of  things.  An  earthquake  could  not  but  immediately 
precede  so  violent  an  eruption;  and  it  is  highly  pro 
bable,  that  this  tumult  communicated  itself  to  the 
neighbouring  air.  I  mention  this,  because  it  contri 
buted  to  the  embarras  we  find  in  the  accounts  of  the 
evidence;  some  of  whom  have  confounded  this  latter 
storm  and  earthquake  with  \heformer.  Another  ob 
servation  I  would  make  is,  that,  according  to  A  in  mi- 
anus  Marcel  linus,  the  fits  of  the  fiery  eruption  con 
tinued  longer  than  the  Christian  writers  represent  the 
matter.  Those  of  them  who  say  the  most,  seeming  to 
confine  the  eruptions  to  one  day  §,  if  we  except  the 


mp££t£«»>  TW 

•3e[Athiuv   T»    iepS    cmQope,    x^    TtroAAb'j    avJj 
oc.$iu<;    htyzla.i     rt    x)    mflvfloUi    x^  tffotp     uotvo;    a/ 

Sozom.  L   v.  c.  2-2. 

•f*   TavTa  'jl  uvliQtoi  Qtua'ot.ij.ivoi,  x^  TOO;  Ssio 
UTrifyetffccv   re   x^    fu,   oiteTa   xaliAa^oJ-.     Theodor.  i.  ill.    c.  '2O. 

J.    fi?   <&    LTTG    ay^ia?    XakAaTr^.    xj    ^acr^cS   y^$   -afyvu 
ITT*    T»    TUV   iff^ylov   ItfitJv  —  or*   /?ta^0fx,£v»? 
vw    ttffo^o*,   t?vg   trwi*,  &c.  Greg.  iVi/.  Oral.  ix. 

§  *£ratlfU2o  ptv  a»  Totvrot  TO  tsbt>,  <&  ww  T^  'n^i^at;.  Socrat, 
L.  iii.  c.  20.  Hoc  iterura  Siepiusque  et  frequentissime  per  tota-u 
illara  diem  repetens,  pertirwcis  populi  temtritatein  flammis  ultri- 
cibus  coercebat. 

abridged 


138      OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  II. 

abridged  account  of  Philostorgius,  which  intimates, 
they  continued  as  long  as  any  one  attempted  to  go  on 
with  the  enterprize  *  :  and  they  would  hardly  desist  for 
the  impediment  of  a  single  day.  It  is  absurd  to  sup 
pose  they  did  :  and  Ammianus's  words  clearly  imply 
they  'did  not  |  :  consequently  the  eruption  lasted  much 
longer;  and  continued  to  be  repeated  as  often  as  the 
projectors  began  to  renew  the  attempt,  till  it  had  fairly 
tired  them  out.  This,  the  reader  will  find,  is  of  im 
portance  to  establish  the  divine  interposition.  Yet  the 
Fathers  are  so  impatient  to  be  at  their  favourite  mira 
cles,  the  crosses  in  the  sky,  and  on  the  garments,  that 
they  slip  negligently  over  what  ought  principally  to 
have  been  insisted  on,  the  FIERY  ERUPTION;  and 
leave  what  was  truly  miraculous,  to  run  after  an  ima 
ginary  prodigy.  The  great  St.  Chrysostome,  indeed, 
must  be  excepted  out  of  this  censure.  He  would  not 
suffer  the  change  to  be  put  upon  him;  but  judiciously 
lays  the  stress  upon  that  which  would  bear  it. 

5.  The  last  appearance  was  a  lucid  cross  in  the  hea 
vens,  circumscribed  within  a  luminous  circle.  Nature, 
put  so  suddenly  into  commotion  by  its  Creator,  was, 
on  the  despair  and  dispersion  of  his  enemies,  as  sud 
denly  calmed  and  composed.  And  then  appeared,  in 
the  yet  clouded  firmament,  this  noble  phenomenon, 
in  a  lunar  halo.  And  what  could  be  conceived  so 
proper  to  close  this  tremendous  scene,  or  to  celebrate 
this  decisive  victory,  as  the  CROSS  triumphant,  incircled 
with  the  HEROIC  symbol  of  conquest? 


*   Tare   pv    yap,  &v 

£en7/*os  iKuvvvu.    Philost.  Hist.  Eccl.  L.  vii.  c.  9. 

f  Metuendi  globi  flammarum  prope  fundamenta  crebris  assul- 
tibus  erumpentes,  fecere  locum  exustis  ahquoties  operantibus  in- 
accessum  :  hocque  modo  elemento  destinatvits  repellente,  cessavit 
inceptum.  L.  xxiii.  c.  i. 

The 


Chap.  III.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE, 

The  order  here  given  to  the  several  parts  of  this 
event,  is  further  supported  by  MarceliinUss  narrative 
of  that  parallel  disaster  at  Nicomedia ;  which  we  have 
already  employed,  and  more  than  once,  though  for 
different  purposes,  to  illustrate  the  fact  in  question. 
And  it  is  remarkable,  the  Roman  historian  not  only 
records  the  same  circumstances,  but  assigns  to  each 
of  them  the  same  order  of  time.  i.  It  bejran  with 
storms  and  tempests.  "  Concreti  nubium  globi  nigran- 
tium,"  &c.  2.  Then  followed  the  lightning,  "  Dein 
velut  numine  summo  fatales  torquente  rnanubias,"  &c. 
3.  Then  the  earthquake.  "  Horrifico  tremore  ten-arum, 
civitatem  et  suburbana  funditus  everterunt"  4.  And 
lastly  the  Jiery  eruption.  "  Palantes  abrupte  flamma- 
rum  ardores,"  £c. 

The  order,  so  carefully  preserved  by  Marcellinus,  at 
Nicomedia,  is,  we  see,  totally  neglected  by  the  Chris 
tian  historians,  at  Jerusalem.  And  what  but  this  could 
suggest  so  different  a  conduct  ?  He  related  what  he 
rightly  understood  to  be,  in  the  whole,  a  natural  event ; 
77? fj/,  what  they  falsely  conceived  to  be,  in  every  part, 
miraculous. 

To  conclude  this  head,  let  me  observe,  That,  in  an 
aggregate  concurrent  evidence,  a  minute  uniformity 
on  the  one  hand,  or  a  real  inconsistency  on  the  other, 
equally  tend  to  the  discredit  of  the  fact  in  question. 
In  the  first  case,  we  justly  suspect  the  evidence  to  be 
concerted;  in  the  latter,  the  Jet ct  to  be  ill  founded. 
Because,  where  men  relate  what  they  receive  from  one 
common  object,  their  accounts  must  be  as  various  as 
the  variety  of  the  several  recipients;  which  is  just  so 
much  as  to  give  a  different  colouring  to  the  same 
things,  not  to  alter  the  things  themselves.  When  we 
see,  therefore,  the  minutest  uniformity  in  the  colouring, 
we  conclude  them  not  to  be  originals,  who  fairly  repre 
sent 


140    OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  II. 

sent  from  nature,  but  copyists,  in  concert  from  one 
another.  And  where,  again,  that  common  object,  from 
which  men  receive  their  intelligence,  is  real,  there,  their 
accounts  can  admit  of  no  inconsistency,  because  the 
nature  of  things  is  invariable.  But  if  this  object  be 
the  creature  of  the  imagination,  begot  by  the  disor 
dered  passions,  which  are  always  changing,  the  testi 
mony  of  the  deluded  observers  will  never  be  secure 
from  contradiction. 

Now  the  Christian  testimony  which  we  have  exa 
mined,  on  this  occasion,  appears  to  be  entirely  free 
from  both  these  suspicious  circumstances.  They  tell 
it,  indeed,  in  the  whole,  variously ;  but  with  a  perfect 
consistence  of  all  its  parts.  They  shew,  by  this,  they 
wrote  neither  in  concert,  nor  at  random ;  but  drew 
from  one  common  object,  and  an  object  that  was  real. 

Having  explained  the  general  cause  of  that  variety, 
in  concurrent  evidence,  which  most  establishes  its 
credit ;  it  may  be  proper  to  consider,  the  peculiar 
cause,  in  the  evidence  in  question. 

Where  a  notorious  fact  consists  of  many  circum 
stances,  the  observers,  according  to  their  different  tem 
pers  and  dispositions,  will  be  differently  affected. 
Some  will  be  struck  with  this  circumstance,  some  with 
that.  Hence  one  man  will  speak  of  a  cause  without 
its  effect :  Another,  of  the  effect  without  the  cause. 
This  relator  will  run  two  circumstances  into  one  ;  That 
will  split  one  into  two.  And  if,  of  these  circumstances, 
there  are  some  not  rightly  understood,  the  order  of 
time  will  be  neglected :  and,  from  that  neglect,  another 
embarras,  in  the  evidence,  will  arise,  a  different  order 
assigned  by  different  writers  to  the  same  circumstance. 

Lastly,  let  me  observe,  it  is  not  every  appearance, 

neither,   of  a  concerted  agreement,   or  irreconciled 

42  contradiction, 


Chap.  III.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       141 

contradiction,  that  should  make  us  lightly  reject  a 
testimony  of  (otherwise)  established  credit.  A  single 
circumstance,  in  the  event  before  us,  will  shew  how 
easily,  in  either  case,  we  may  be  betrayed  into  a 
wrong  judgment.  Nazianzen,  Rufinus,  Socrates, 
Sozomene,  Theodoret,  are  so  exact,  and  in  so  per 
fect  agreement,  about  the  cross  upon  the  garments 
(while  each,  in  his  turn,  overlooks  more  material 
circumstances)  that  if  we  take  it  in  the  light  they 
place  it,  of  a  great  and  amazing  prodigy,  we  should 
be  apt  to  suspect  it  only  a  studied  ornament  to  their 
relation.  Yet  the  finding,  on  examination,  that  the 
properties,  they  assign  to  these  crosses,  lead  to  the 
discovery  of  their  real  nature,  this  entirely  acquits 
them  of  invention.  Again,  what  on  thex  other  hand 
has  a  stronger  appearance  of  contradiction  than  one* 
of  them  affirming  that  these  crosses  were  shining 
and  radiated;  and  another,  that  they  were  sombro-us 
and  dark-coloured?  Yet  this  apparent  contradiction 
assists  us  in  the  discovery  of  one  of  their  physical 
properties ;  and  that  discovery  helps  us  to  reconcile 
the  contradiction ;  as  we  find  they  were  black  by  day, 
and  lucid  by  night. 

I  chose  to  let  this  single  circumstance  of  the  crosses 
supply  me  with  these  instances  of  the  contrary 
qualities  (of  too  great  conformity,  and  too  little  con 
sistency,  in  a  concurrent  evidence)  which  equally 
tend  r-j  render  it  suspicious ;  because,  indeed,  these 
contrary  qualities  frequently  exist  together,  in  the 
testimony  si  false  witnesses  to  the  same  fact. 

We  come  now,  in  the  last  place,  to  that  refuse 
of  evidence,  which  we  threw  together  as  of  no 
account ;  Philostorgius,  Theophanes,  Orosius,  Nice- 
phorus,  Zonaras,  Cedrenus,  arid  their  fellows. 

These 


142     OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  II, 

These  men,  like  impertinent  players,  have  only  the 
language  of  others,  without  any  sense  of  their  own  ; 
save,  that  they,  sometimes,  presume  to  add  their 
own  inventions  to  their  author's  conceits.  Thus  Phi- 
lostorgius  and  Theoph'anes  clap  on  a  couple  of 
senseless  lies,  to  the  well-composed  relation  of  their 
predecessors  ;  which,  like  wens  in  a  fair-  proportioned 
body,  stick  out  so  unsightly^as  never  to  be  mistaken 
for  its  natural  members. 

The  first  of  them  tells  a  story  (which  Nicephorus 
has  repeated)  of  a  certain  cave  laid  open  by  the 
workmen,  in  which  was  found  the  Gospel  of  St.  John, 
miraculously  'preserved*.  As  this  was  apparently 
invented  in  favour  of  the  religion  of  r  cliques,  I  shall 
deliver  it  up  to  the'  inquisition  of  Dr.  Middleton. 

Theophanes  tells  his  tale  on  better  grounds.  He 
affirms,  that  the  marks  of  the  cross  were  not  only 
found  at  Jerusalem  ;  but  at  Antioch,  and  other  cities; 
and  that  they  appeared  on  the  coverings  of  the  altars, 
on  the  church-books,  and  on  the  sacred  vestments  f- 
Well  fare  Theophanes,  for  a  punctual  relator.  I 
fancy  Philostorgius  would  have  been  at  a  loss  to 
produce  his  miraculous  gospel:  But  without  doubt, 
Theophanes  knew  where  to  find  enough  of  his  own 
manufacture,  to  save  him  from  blushing,  had  he  been 
of  so  weak  a  complexion. 

*   Ka»    $)  Xy   TUV   &£/x£At«v    iVT^tTr^o^svuvp    el 

Ttlotfyivav    xiJ>»)0Etf,    ro/xtov     avTptf    Tivoq 
&C.  —  'Evil/foam  <rfay  rw 

Hist.  Eccl.  vii.  c.  14; 


—  fi,vTop.cru<;    TS 
TUV 

ray^a,  »  povov  tv  'l£gQ?Q?\i>(AQi$ 

Chronog.  p.  44. 


Chap.  IV.]    REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       143 


CHAP.    IV. 

THE  Reader  hath  now  the  whole  of  the  church- 
evidence  laid  before  him.  It  hath  been  largely  and 
minutely  examined;  and,  I  presume,  so  fully  ex^ 
plained  and  vindicated,  as  to  make  it  needless  to 
take  notice  of  any  particular  Writer,  who  hath  ob 
jected  to  its  credit. 

Yet  the  remarks  of  M.  JAMES  BASXAGE,  on  this 
collective  evidence,  are  so  very .  extraordinary,  and 
his  authority  in  the  learned  world  so  high,  that  I 
might  be  reasonably  accused  of  neglect,  should  I  pass 
him  over  in  silence,  though  a  great  part  of  his  censure 
hath  been  already  obviated. 

This  very  learned  man,  whose  candour,  exactness, 
and  strength  of  reasoning,  have  advanced  him  to  the 
first  rank  in  letters,  hath,  amongst  his  other  excellent 
labours,  enriched  the  Public  with  a  History  of  the 
Jews,  from  the  beginning  of  the  Christian  jEra,  down 
to  the  present  times ;  composed  in  a  judicious  method, 
interspersed  with  many  curious  inquiries,  and  abound 
ing  in  a  vast  variety  of  good  learning. 

In  the  sixth  book  of  this  work,  he  gives  us,  what 
he  calls,  an  Examination  of  those  miracles  which 
defeated  Julian's  attempt  to  rebuild  the  Temple: 
•where,  to  speak  freely,  I  find  not  one  of  those  quali 
ties,  which  have  rendered  him  so  deservedly  famous 
amongst  the  Protestants  abroad. 

After  having  told  us  what  share  Julian  had  in  the 
attempt,  and  how  easily  he  brought  the  Jews  into  his 
measures,  he  goes  on  in  this  manner  ; 

«  It 


144     OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  II. 

*  8f  It  is  said,  that  God  hindered  the  building  of 
<c  the  temple,  by  three  succeeding  miracles.     Three 

"  ancient 

*  On  dit  que  Dieu  I'emp&cha  par  trois  miracles  consecutifg. 
Trois  historiens  anciens,   Socrate,   Sozomene,  &  Theodoret,  ra- 
portent  unanirnement  ces   faits.     Sozomene  mcme.  .qui,    a  peur 
que  quelques  incredules  ne  les  regardent  comme  fabuleux,  renvoie 
ces  incredules  a  la  deposition  de3  temoins  oculaires,  qui  vivoient 
encore  lors  qu'il   ecrivoit.     Le  premier  de  ces  miracles  fut   un 
tremblement  de  terre,  qui  arriva  lors   qu'on  nettoioit  les  fonde 
mens  de  Tandem   temple  pour  en  jetter   des   nouveaux  t  et  ce 
tremblement    de    terre   renversa  les  materiaux.      II  y  a  deux 
variations  sur  ce  premier  miracle;    car  Theodoret  le   fait  pre- 
ceder  de  je  ne  sai  quelle  vertu  divine,'  qui  raportoit  la  nuit  les 
anciens  materiaux  &  les  ordures  qu'on  avoit  otees,  et  ensuite  d'un 
vent  miraculeux,   qui  dissipa  les  pierres,  quoi  qu'on  eut  jette 
dessus  une  prodigieuse   quantite  de   chaux    et   de    ciment   pour 
les  effermir.     Secondement,  Sozomene  fait  mourir  par  ce  trem 
blement  de  terre   un   grand  noinbrc  de  pcrsonnes,    qui  ctoient 
venues  la  en  qualilc  d'ouvriers,  ou  de  spectateurs,  et  qui  fureni 
ecrasees  sous   les  ruines  des   maisons  voisines  et  des   porches,. 
BOUS  lesquels  ils    s'e"toient   retirez.     Le   second  miracle   fut   un 
feu,  qui,    sortant  des  fondemens  qu'on  venoit  de  poser,  consuma 
une   partie  des  ouvriers,  et  mit  le    reste  en  fuite :  Tun  fait  de- 
scendre  ce  feu  du  ciel,   et  les  deux  autres  le  font  sortir  de  terre. 
Socrate  le  fait  durer  un  jour  entier  pour  consumer  les  hoiaux, 
les  peles,  et  tous  les  instrumens  destinez>al'ouvrage.     Sozomene 
raporte  avec  quelque  incertitude  la  mart  des  ouvriers.     II  marque 
m£me   qu'on   varioit  un  peu ;    les  uns  assurent   que  le  feu  les 
avoit  consumez,  lors   qu'ils  avoient  voulu  cntrer  dans  le  temple ; 
ce  qui  etoit  impertinent ;  puis  que  les  fondemens  etoient  a  peine 
achevez;   &   les  autres  soutenoient  que  cela   etoit    arrive,  lors 
qu'on  commencd  a  remuer  la  terre,  et  a  la  transporter.     II  y  a  une 
quatrieme  variation  sur  ce  miracle ;  car  on  ajoute  que  les  Juifsj 
reconurent  malgre  eux  que  J.  CHRIST  etoit   Dieu,  et  qu'ils  ne 
laisserent  pas  de   perseverer  dans  leur   enterprise ;    ce    qui  est 
contradictoire.     Mais   il   n'importe :  leur  fermete  donna  lieu  a 
un  troisieme    prodigie.     Car  ils  s'apercurent  le   matin  qu'il  y 
avoit  un  grand  nombre   d'etoiles  raionnantes  semees  sur  lenrs 
habits,  qu'ils  voulurent  effacer  sans  pouvoir  y  rciissir.     Sozomene 
y  ajoute  des  fctoiles  qui  6toieot  feitcg  avec  autaat;  d'art,  que 

•i 


Chap.  IV.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       145 

"  ancient    historians,    SOCRATES,    SOZOMENE,    and 
"  THEODOKET,  unanimously  relate  these  i'acts.    And 

"  as 

si  elles  y  avoient  etc  mises  par  la  main  de  1'ouvrier.  Theodoret 
s'ecarte  un  peu ;  car  au  lieu  d'etoilea  raioim  mtes  il  en  met  de 
noires,  ce  qui  representoit  mieux  le  crime  et  le  suplice  des  Juifs, 
et  k  m£me  terns  il  en  lait  ecr.  STI  plusieurs  qui  etoient  endormis 
BOUS  UH  porche.  Mais  la  graiide  variation  roulle  sur  iViTet  de 
ce  troisieme  miracle :  car  IPS  uns  assurent  que  les  Jail's  se 
retirerent  chez  eux  auss;  endurcis  que  s'ils  r/avoient  rie.n  vd. 
Mais  les  deux  autres  pretenuent  que  la  mupurt  se  firen£--Chr£tiens, 
et  que  le  bruit  de  leur  conveision  alia  jupqu'aux  oreilles  de 
1'Kmpereur  Julien.  Nous  avon*  cru  devoir  remanjuer  ces  dif- 
fc  rentes  circonstances,  a  fin  qu'ori  puisse  rnieux  peser  la  veritc 
dft  ce  recit  Les  uns  trouveront  qnelque  plaisir  a  multiplier  le 
nombre  de  CPS  miracles,  comme  Tlieodoret,  et  y  ajouter  mCme 
ce  que  les  Kcrivains  ui"tlernes  en  ont  dit.  Mais  il  est  juste 
que  les  autres  y  trouvent  aussi  les  raisins  qu'on  pent  avoi*  de 
suspendre  sa  tbi.  J'ajouierai  seuiemeiit  deux  cboses.  l/une, 
que  lu  preuve  que  Soznniene  allcgue  pour  montrer  la  veritc  de 
ce  qu'il  avance,  es  tivs  foible.  11  en  appcll^  d  ''cvencment, 
&  soutient  qn'on  ne  peur  j  lus  douter  de  celfe  longue  suite  de 
miracles,  parce  que  le  temple  ne  fut  point  achevtS  INIais  cet 
historien  avoit-il  <u:<lic  que  la  permission  ne  fut  donnce  aux 
Juifs,  que  lors  que  Julien  partoit  pour  son  expedition  centre  les 
Perses,  dans  liiquelle  il  fut  tue,  &  qu'ainsi  on  n'avoit  pas  besoin 
de  tant  de  miracles  pour  empecher  la  structure  d'un  ed;rice  ? 
L'oposition  des  Chrotuns,  qui  profitererit  de  1'eloignement  da 
prince,  sa  mort,  et  1'elevation  de  Jovien,  enemi  des  Juifs,  suf- 
fisoient  pour  arreier  tout  court  ce  dessein.  D'ailleurs,  il  renvoye 
ses  lectures  en  termes  vagues,  a  des  temoins  oculaires,  sans 
nommer,  ni  indiquer  personne.  Enfin  Cyrille  de  Jerusalem,  qui 
etoit  alors  Evfique  de  cette  ville,  devoit  et.-e  sur  les  lieux,  puis 
qne  ce  fut  lui  qui  rassura  le  peuple  p.ir  le  moin  d'un  oracle  de 
Daniel,  qui  avoit  prodit,  ^  ce  qu'.l  croyoit,  que  1'ouvrage  ne 
reiissiroit  pas.  Cependant  Cyiille  n'ajaiuuis  parlA  de  tens  ces 
miracles.  Ce  n'est  pas  qu'il  ne  1«»s  a  mat.  II  ecrivit,  dit-on,  a 
Constantin  le  Jeune,  pour  lui  uppiendre  qu'il  6'oit  plus  l;eureux 
que  son  pere,  sous  1'empire  duquel  on  av.  it  trouvo  en  terre  la 
croix  du  lils  de  Dieu,  puis  que  le  ciei  !ui  tcxisoit  voir  un  prodige 
plus  ocUant:  c'c'  it  une  cro  x  i-l:is  lummeuse  que  le  £>oleil, 
que  toute  It  vill .  dj  Jerusalem  c.voit  vue  au  firmament  un  long 
VOL.  VIII.  L  tspece 


T46      OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  II. 

"  as  to  Sozomene,  in  particular,  who  is  apprehensive, 
"  there  might  be  certain  unbelievers,  who  would  give 
"  no  credit  to  them,  he  sends  such  to  the  depositions 
"  of  those  who  had  been  eye-witnesses,  and  were  yet 
"  living  when  he  wrote  his  history. 

"  Thejlrst  of  these  miracles  was  an  EARTHQUAKE, 
"  which  happened  at  the  time  they  were  clearing 
"  the  old  foundations,  in  order  to  lay  new :  and 
"  this  earthquake  overthrew  their  magazines  of  ma- 
"  terials. 

"  There  are  two  variations  on  the  subject  of  this 
"  first  miracle.  For  Theodoret  makes  it  preceded, 
ft  i .  by  I  can't  tell  what  divine  power ;  which,  in 
"  the  night,  brought  back  the  old  materials  and 
"  rubbish  into  the  place  from  whence  they  had  been 
"  taken :  and  2dly,  by  a  miraculous  wind,  which 
"  dispersed  the  stones,  though  they  had  been  covered 
"  by  a  prodigious  quantity  of  lime  and  mortar,  to 
"  bind  them  into  one  solid  mass.  The  second  va- 
"  riation  is  in  Sozomene's  m  king  this  earthquake 
"  destroy  a  great  number  of  people,  who  uere  there 


cspece  de  terns.  Pourquoi  parler  de  cette  croix,  et  se  taire  sur 
ces  miracles  ?  II  apiend  aux  Juifs  quils  verront  le  signe  de  la 
croix,  lequel  precedera  la  venue  du  fils  de  Dieu,  &  ne  dit  pat 
un  seul  mot  de  cellos  qui  avoient  ete  attachees  miraculeusement 
k  leurs  habits.  Ce  silence  d'un  Evcque  qui  etoit  sur  les  lieux, 
qui  aimoit  les  miracles  et  la  conversion  des  Juits,  est  suspect, 
lors  qii'il  n'y  a  que  des  temoins  eloignez  qui  p  ti lent.  ( 'ependant 
il  ne  taut  p  >s  dissiinuler,  que  si  un  des  Chronologistes  Juifs 
gouuent,  que  le  temple  ne  fut  point  bati  a  cause  de  la  moi  t  im- 
prevue  de  Ju-lien,  un  autre  assure  que  ce  temple,  rebati  a  grandi 
t\  s,  umiba,  et  que  le  leudemain  un  grand  Jcu,  qui  ri?it  du  citl, 
fundit  /e.s  Jerrenteits  qui  rcstoient,  $  Jit  pcrir  une  multitude  in- 
nwnbribie  de  J«i/'s  C'et  aveu  des  Rabbins  rst  d'autant  plus 
coi.s.derable  qu  il  pst  nijiirieux  a  la  nation,  et  que  ces  messieurs 
Be  sont  p-is  accuCuuintA  a  copier  les  Ouvra^es  des  Chretien*, 
,  liibi.  des  Juas,  Lib.  vi.  c.  18,  19. 


Chap.  IV.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       147 

"  in    quality  of  workmen  or  lookers-on,  and  were 

<£  buried  under  the  ruins  of  the  neighbouring  houses 

"  and  porticos,  whither  they  had  retired  for  shelter. 

"  The   second  miracle  was    a   FIRE,    which  burst 

*  from  the  foundations    they  were  then   preparing; 

"  and  destroyed  one  part  of  the  workmen,   and  put 

"  the    rest  to    flight,     i.  One   of  these   historians 

"  makes  this  fire  to  descend  from  Heaven ;   the  other 

"  two  bring  it  from   beneath.     2.  Socrates  says,  it 

"  continued  the  whole  day,  and  consumed  the  pick- 

"  axes,  shovels,  and  all   the  tools  and   instruments 

"  destined  to  this  service.     3.  Sozomene  relates  the 

"  death    of  the  workmen  with    some   uncertainty, 

"  Nay,  he   observes,  that  here  the  evidence   varied 

"  a  little ;    some  affirming  that   the   fire   destroys  d 

"  them    as   they  uere  striving  to  enter  the  temple 

"  (which   was  certainly  an  idle  story,  since  even  the 

"  foundations  were  hardlyrfinished  ;)  while  others  say, 

"  it  happened  when  they  first  began  to  break  ground, 

"  and   carry   off  the  rubbish.     4.  There  is  a  fourth 

"  variation  on  the  subject  of  this  miracle ;  for  it  is 

*'  added,   the    Jews   confessed,    though    in   spite    of 

"  themselves,    that  JESUS  CHRIST   was  God;  and 

"  yet  they  did  not  cease  to  persevere  in  their  attempt : 

"  which  is  a  manifest  contradiction. 

"  But  no  matter  for  that :    their  obstinacy  gave 

'  occasion  to  a  third  miracle.     For,  in  the  morning, 

'  they  perceived  a  great  number  of  SHINING  STARS 

"  scattered   over  their  habits ;  which  they   tried   to 

"  efface,  but  in  vain.     Sozomene  adds,    there  were 

"  of  these  stars  so  artfully  formed,   that  the  band   of 

"  a  workman    could    not   have   done    them    better: 

"  Theodoret  deviates  a  little  here ;    For,   instead  of 

"  the  shining  stars,   he  speaks  of  black  ones.     Such 

as   indeed   more   properly   marked  the  crime  and 

L  2  t(  punishment 


i4»     OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  II. 

"  -punishment  of  the  Jews.  And  at  the  same  time, 
"  he  crushes  to  death  a  great  number,  who  were  fast 
"  asleep  under  a  portico. 

"  But  the  great  variation  of  all  turns  upon  the  effect 
"  of  the  third  miracle.  For  one  assures  us,  that  the 
"  Jews  returned  home  as  hardened  as  if  they  had 
"  seen  nothing:  whereas  the  other  two  pretend,  that 
"  the  greater  part  embraced  the  Christian  faith  ;  and 
"  that  the  news  of  their  conversion  reached  even  to 
"  the  ears  of  Julian  himself. 

"  We  have  conceived  it  to  be  the  duty  of  a  faith- 
"  ful  historian  to  take  notice  of  these  differences,  in 
".  order  to  assist  the  reader,  in  forming  a  right 
"  judgment  of  the  truth  of  the  whole  relation.  Some, 
"  doubtless,  will  find  their  pleasure  in  multiplying 
"  the  number  of  these  miracles,  like  Theodoret; 
"  and  even  in  adding  every  thing  which  modern 
(i  writers  have  said  to  set  them  off.  But  it  is  no 
"  more  than  fitting  that  men  of  a  different  turn  should 
"  be  made  acquainted  with  the  reasons  there  are 
"  to  suspend  their  belief. 

c<  I  will  only  add  these  two  observations  to  what 
"  has  been  already  said.  The  one  is,  that  the  ar- 
"  gument  Sozomene  brings  to  prove  the  truth  of 
"  what  he  advances,  is  a  very  weak  one.  He  appeals 
"  to  the  issue;  and  maintains,  we  can  no  longer 
"  doubt  of  this  long  train  of  miracles,  since  the  temple 
"  was  never  finished.  But  couid  this  historian  forget 
"  that  the  Jews  did  not  obtain  their  permission  to 
"  rebuild  it  till  the  time  of  Julian's  setting  out  for 
"  his  Persian  expedition,  in  which  he  perished? 
"  As  this  was  the  case,  there  was  little  need  of  all 
"  these  miracles  to  hinder  the  erection  of  a  single 
"  building]  surely,  a  sutiicient  cause  for  cur  ting  .-iiort 
"  an  enterprize  of  this  na'-ure  may  be  fl  md  in  the 

"  oppobition 


Chap.  IV.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       149 

"  opposition  of  the  Christians,  who  might  take 
<c  advantage  of  the  prince's  absence  in  a  remote 
"  region,  of  his  death  there,  and  the  advancement 
"  of  Jovian,  who  was  an  enemy  to  the  Jews.  Besides, 
"  the  historian  refers  his  readers,  in  a  vague,  in- 
"  definite  manner,  to  the  eye-witnesses  of  the  fact, 
"  without  pointing  out  one  single  person  by  name. 

"  But  lastly,  Cyrill  of  Jerusalem,  who  was,  at  that 
"  time,  Bishop  of  the  place,  and  must  have  been 
<f  upon  the  spot,  since  it  was  he,  who  confiding  in 
"  a  prophecy  of  Daniel  (which  had  foretold,  as  he 
<c  thought,  that  the  attempt  would  prove  unsuccessful) 
"  encouraged  and  animated  the  people  to  repose 
"  their  confidence  in  God.  Notwithstanding,  this 
"  same  Cyrill  has  never  taken  the  least  notice  of 
"  these  many  miracles :  and  yet  it  certainly  was  not 
"  because  he  was  no  friend  to  miracles :  We  are 
"  told  he  wrote  to  Constantine  the  Younger,  to 
rt  inform  him,  that  he  was  more  happy  than  his 
*  father,  under  whose  empire  the  cross  of  Christ 
"  had  been  found  here  on  earth,  since  Heaven,  to 
"  grace  his  reign,  had  displayed  a  more  illustrious 
"  prodigy:  which  was,  a  cross  much  brighter  than 
"  the  sun,  seen  in  the  firmament  for  a  long  time 
"  together,  by  the  whole  city  of  Jerusalem.  Why, 
"  now,  was  that  cross  remembered,  and  all  these 
"  miracles  forgotten  ?  He  assures  the  Jews,  they 
"  shall  see  the  sign  of  the  cross;  and  that  it  will 
"  precede  the  coming  ot  the  Son  of  God;  and  yet 
tl  he  says  not  one  single  word  of  those  which  had 
"  been  miraculously  affixed  to  their  habits.  The 
"  silence  of  a  Bishop,  who  was  upon  the  place,  who 
"  loved  miracles,  and  laboured  for  the  conversion 
"  of  the  Jews,  looks  very  suspicious ;  while  at  the 

L  3  "  same 


150      OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  II. 

"  same  time,   they,  who  do  speak  to  it,  lived  at  a 
"  distance. 

"  However,  it  ought  not  to  be  dissembled,  that, 
"  if  one  oi  the  Jewish  Chronolo^ists  maintains,  that 
u  the  sudden  and  unexpected  death  of  Julian  pre- 
"  vented  the  rebuilding  the  temple ;  another  ot  them 
"  assures  us  it  was  rebuilt,  and  that,  when  tuis  was 
"  done  at  a  vast  expence,  it  tumbled  dov\n  again, 
"  and,  the  next  day,  a  dreadful  fre,  which  fell 
"  from  Heaven,  melted  all  the  iron  instruments  that 
"  remained,  and  destroyed  an  innumerable  multitude 
"  of  Jews.  This  confessio  i  of  the  Rabbins  is  the 
"  iiuv-'e  considerable,  as  it  reflects  dishonour  on  the 
"  nation;  and  these  gentry  are  not  wont  to  copy 
"  from  the  writings  of  the  Christians." 

Before  I  proceed  to  a  particular  examination  of 
this  long  passage,  I  shall  make  these  two  general 
remarks  upon  it. 

Tirst,  that  the  learned  critic  goes  all  the  way 
upon  a  false  supposition ;  namely,  that  it  was  the 
purpose  of  these  three  historians,  in  their  accounts 
of  this  event,  to  place  the  several  circumstances,  at 
tending  it,  in  the  order  of  time  in  which  each  of 
them  uas  supposed  to  happen.  I  have  shewn  they 
had  no  such  purpose,  and  have  explained  the  cause 
of  their  neglecting  the  order  of  time  *.  This  was  fit 
to  be  taken  notice  of,  because  the  main  force  in  his 
objections  arises  from  the  contrary  supposition. 

My  second  remark  is,  that  the  learned  critic  em 
barrasses  both  himself  and  his  reader,  by  using,  without 
explaining,  the  ambiguous  term  ot  VARIATION  :  which 
may  either  signify  a  contradiction ;  or,  only  a  simple 
diversity.  His  reasoning  requires  you  should  apply 
it  in  the  former  sense ;  but  his  J acts  commonly  go  no 

*  See  pp.  134,  135. 

higher 


Chap.  IV.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       151 

higher  than  the  latter.  This  was  proper  to  observe, 
because  a  contradiction  discredits  a  concurrent  evi 
dence  :  while  a  simple  diversity  never  hurts,  and  often 
supports  it  *. 

When  a  writer's  purpose  fs  not  to  confirm  the  fact 
in  question;  but  to  render  it  do  ibtful  and  suspected; 
it  will  lye  upon  him  to  give  a  good  account  of  every 
part  of  the  evidence  by  which  it  may  be  supported  : 
because  no  conclusion  can  be  drawn  against  a  fdct  till 
the  whole  testimony  for  it  hath  been  fairly  invalidated. 
It  is  otherwise  when  a  fact  is  to  be  established.  In 
that  case,  it  may  be  sufficient  to  select  and  urge  only 
the  most  material.  Now  the  learned  critic  begins  his 
discourse  in  this  manner,  It  is  said,  that  God  hindered 
the  building  of  the  temple  by  three  succeeding  miracles. 
Three  ancient  historians,  SOCRATES,  SOZOMENE,  and 
TIIEODORET,  unanimously  relate  these  facts. 

His  process  against  the  miracle  is  regular  and  in 
form.  He  first  names  his  witnesses :  but  does  he 
name  them  all  ?  So  one  would  be  apt  to  conclude,  both 
from  the  nature  of  the  case,  and  the  critic's  turn  of 
expression :  at  least  one  would  never  suspect  that  he 
had  omitted  any  of  the  first  and  original  evidence.  Yet 
he  has  omitted  all  of  them.  Not  only  Ambrose,  Gre 
gory,  Nazianzene,  and  St.  Chrysostome ;  but  even  the 
testimony  of  Marcellinus  himself.  This  is  a  proceeding, 
which  bears  as  hard  against  the  ingenuity  of  the 
writer  as  against  the  strength  ot  his  conclusion  :  and, 
with  regard  to  his  argument,  the  utmost  this  method 
can  effect  is  only  to  discredit  the  witnesses  he  does 
think  fit  to  produce  and  examine;  while  the  fact  itself 
supported  by  others,  of  greater  and  unquestioned  au 
thority,  remains  entire  But  let  us  view  his  confuta 
tion  in  the  light  he  would  have  it  seen. 

*  See  p.  139*  &  *eq. 

L4  His 


152     OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO  [Book  II. 

His  objection  to  the  earthquake,  \\  hich  lie  calls  the 
FIRST  miracle,  is,  that  there  are  two  'variations  con 
cerning  it. 

Thejirst  is,  that  Theodoret  makes  it  preceded,  first, 
by  I  cant  tell  what  divine  power,  which,  in  the  night, 
brought  back  the  old  materials  and  rubbish  into  the 
place  from  whence  they  had  been  taken  ;  and,  '2dly,  by 
a  miraculous  wind j  which  dispersed  the  si  ones*,  though 
they  had  been  covered  by  a  prodigious  quantity  of  lime 
and  mortar,  to  bind  them  into  one  solid  mass. 

1.  As  M.  -Basnage  himself  here  states  the  case,  we 
see  this  is  of  the  nature  of  those  variations,  mentioned 
just  before,  that  imply  no  contradiction,  but  only  a 
diversity.     A  case  almost  essential  to  the  truth  of  an 
accumulative  evidence,   not  given  in  concert.     One 
witness  delivers  a  circumstance  omitted  by  another; 
and  omits  a  circumstance  which  the  other  hath  deli 
vered.     Thus   Theodoret  is  here  said  to  relate  two 
circumstances    preceding   the   earthquake,    of.  which 
Socrates  and  Sozomene  are  silent :  and  Sozomene  to 
relate  an  effect  of  this  earthquake,  of  which  Socrates 
and  Theodoret  are  silent.    Nowr,  not  to  repeat  what 
hath  been  just  observed  of  the  real  credit  these  diver 
sities  carry  with  them ;  what  can  more  strongly  support 
the  truth  of  this  earthquake,  attested  by  three  historians, 
than  that,   when  one  had  only  recorded  the  fact  itself, 
the  other  two  preserved  the  memory  of  those  circum 
stances,   which,  we  have  shewn  *,  this  fact  was  most 
likely  to  produce  ? 

2,  But  on  the  learned  critic's  false  supposition  of 
an  order  of  time  observed  in  these  accounts,  he  might 
have   improved  this   variation  into  a  contradiction' 

*  See  pp.  128—130.  and  pp.  114—116. 

And, 


Chap.  IV.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       153 

And,  considering  he  had  this  imaginary  advantage,  one 
would  wonder  he  did  not  use  it.  For,  in  the  order  of 
Theodoret's  relation,  the  filling  up  the  foundations  goes 
before  the  earthquake ;  whereas  from  the  accounts  of 
Rulinus  and  Cassiodorus,  explained  on  .the  reason  of 
things,  it  appears  to  have  been  qficr,  and  the  effect 
of  the  earthquake.  But,  as  it  hath  been  shewn  *,  that 
the  historians  had  it  not  in  their  purpose  to  ohserve 
the  order  of  time,  the  objection,  even  when  thus  stated, 
is  seen  to  have  no  weight  However,  admit,  the  his 
torians  had  it  in  their  purpose  to  observe  the  order  of 
time,  and  that  they  differed  in  placing  some  of  the 
circumstances  :  what  follows  ?  Not  that  the  facts  were 
false :  but  that  the  witnesses  were  men  of  credit,  who 
did  not  write  in  concert.  Is  not  the  whole  body  of 
civil  history  full  of  facts  believed  by  all  mankind ; 
about  the  order  of  which,  as  they  stand  connected  in 
time  to  one  another,  historians  do,  and  will  eternally 
differ?  I  have  now  accidentally  lying  before  me  Dr. 
Hody's  learned  account  of  those  illustrious  Greeks  who 
brought  the  use  of  their  language  into  the  west  of 
Europe;  where,  speaking  of  Emmanuel  Chrysologus, 
it  appears  that  a  number  of  writers,  contemporary  with 
him,  affirm,  that  he  first  taught  at  Venice,  then  at 
Florence:  while  as  great  a  number,  and  of  equal 
credit,  affirm  just  the  contrary,  that  it  was  jirst  at 
Florence,  and  cijteru-ards  at  Venice.  In  the  mean 
while  no  body  ever  doubted  that  he  taught  in  both 
places. — And  here  the  distinction  between  a  natural 
and  supernatural  tact  (frequently,  and  indeed,  properly 
urged  in  these  disputes)  hath  no  place.  For  M.  Bas- 
nage's  objection  stands  on  a  civil,  not  a  physical, 
reason. 

*  See  pp.  134,  135. 

3.  Lastly, 


154    OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  II. 

3.  Lastly,  He  tells  us,  Theodoret  says,  a  miraculous 
wind  dispersed  the  stones,  though  they  had  been  covered 
by  a  prodigious  quantity  of  lime  and  mortar  to  bind 
them  into  one  solid  mass.  But  the  best  is,  Theodoret 
says  no  such  thing.  The  candid  Critic  should  not  have 
made  his  miracles  still  more  wonderful  by  a  false  ex 
position  of  them.  The  whole  affair,  indeed,  we  think, 
was  one  continued  declaration  of  the  divine  displeasure  : 
but  where  God  employs  natural  instruments  to  execute 
his  judgments,  tli  -y  usually  work  according  to  their 
capacities  :  and  Theodoret's  wind  dots  no  more.  His 
words  are  these  —  "  When  they  had  laid  in,  and  dis- 
"  posed  on  heaps,  many  thousand  measures  of  lime 
<f  and  plaster  ;  violent  storms,  whirlwinds,  and  tem- 
"  pests;  unexpectedly  arose,  and  dispersed  them  all 
"  about  *.''  Here  we  find  nothing  told,  but  what  this 
elementary  agency  might  well  perform  So  that  one 
cannot  conceive  what  it  was  that  induced  this  learned 
man,  first  to  lay  so  strong  an  embargo  on  his  heavy 
weight  of  stones,  and  then  to  disperse  them  again  so 
lightly  ;  unless,  because,  as  he  says,  the  Fathers  loved 
to  talk  of  miracles,  so  he  loved  to  laugh  at  them.  But 
he  should  have  chosen  a  fitter  subject  for  his  mirth. 

His  second  variation  about  the  earthquake  is,  in 
Sozomene's  making  it  destroy  a  great  number  of  people 
who  were  buried  under  the  ruins  of  the  neighbouring 
houses  and  porticos.  Here  the  variation  is  still  more 
imaginary.  Sozomene  is  not  alone  in  the  fact.  Theo- 
don  t  likewisq*  mentions  it;  though,  by  placing  the 
fiery  eruption  between  the  earthquake  and  the  fall 
of  the  porticos,  he  hath  separated  the  cause  from 


Hist.  Eccl.  1.  iii.  c.  20. 

the 


Chap.  IV.]    REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.         155 

the  effect  *.  We  should  therefore  place  this  instance 
amongst  the  supports,  not  the  objections,  to  this  illus 
trious  event. 

The  stcoxD  miracle,  according  to  M.  Basnage's 
representation  of  things,  is  thejirefrom  the  foundations: 
and  concerning  this,  he  assures  us,  there  are  no  less 
than  four  variations. 

Tl\cJ/r$t  is,  that  one  of  the  historians  makes  the 
fire  to  descend  from  heaven-,  the  other  two  bring  it 
from  beneath. 

The  assertion  is  grounded  on  a  mere  mistake  of  the 
text.  Socrates  speaks  of  one  fact,  when  he  says,  "  A 
€l  fire  came  from  Heaven,  and  consumed  all  the  work- 
"  men's  tools  f  ;"  Sozomene  and  Theodoret  of  another, 
when  they  say,  "  A  fire  broke  out  of  the  foundations, 
"  and  destroyed  many  of  the  workmen  themselves  *." 
And  nothing  but  rnnch  prejudice,  or  little  attention, 
could  have  blended  two  consistent,  into  one  inconsistent 
fact.  The  fire  from  heaven*  and  the  fire  from  the 
foundations,  were  different  events  :  and  distant  from 
each  other  in  time  as  well  as  place.  All  the  mystery 
is,  that  Socrates  mentions  the  former,  and  omits  the 
latter;  and  Sozomene  and  Theodoret  mention  t  .e 
latter,  and  omit  the  former.  The  nature  of  things  *, 
as  well  as  the  rules  of  interpretation,  supports  this 
distinction  :  and,  physically  speaking,  it  had  been  more 
to  be  wondered  at,  if  the  storms  and  tempests  had  not 
produced  lightning,  than  if  a  fiery  eruption  had  not 
followed  an  earthquake. 

*  See  p.  129. 

t  rit^  yap  «|  ^aru  x-cZlourx.^**  t   Vfatioe.    ret  ruf   o 
}<iOsi0iv,     L.  iii.  c.  20. 


Sozom.    L.  V.   C.    22.—  -*rt»£    IK.   rut 

«*i»r*«  TVV  iguTloyltfit  irinfwi,    Theod.  1.  iii.  c.  20. 

The 


156     OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  IL 

The  second  variation  is,  that  Socrates  says,  the  fire 
continued  the  whole  day ;  and  consumed  the  pick-ares, 
shovels,  and  ail  the  tools  and  instruments  destined  to 
the  service. 

This  variation  is  as  fanciful,  as  the  supposition,  on 
which  it  rises,  is  false;  namely,  that  Socrates  here 
speaks  of  the  same  fire  mentioned  by  Sozomene  and 
Theodoret.  For  if  he  meant  a  different  (as  he  certainly 
did),  then  its  continuance  for  a  whole  day  is  no  varia 
tion,  even  in  the  lowest  sense  our  critic  uses  it,  of  one 
writer's  recording  a  circumstance,  of  the  same  fact, 
which  another  hath  omitted. 

A  third  variation  (says  M.  Basnage)  is,  that  Sozo- 
mene  relates  the  death  of  the  workmen  with  some 
uncertainty.  Nay,  the  historian  observes,  that  here 
the  evidence  varied  a  little.  Some  affirming  that  the 

Jire  destroyed  them  as  they  were  striving  to  enter  the 
temple  (which  was  certainly  an  idle  story,  since  the 

foundations  were  hardly  jinished) ;  while  others  say, 
it  happened  when  they  first  began  to  break  ground  and 
carry  off  the  rubbish. 

That  Sozomene  relates  the  death  of  the  workmen  with 
some  uncertainty  is  a  strange  misrepresentation :  his 
w  ords  are  these,  It  is  said,  that  afire  burst  suddenly 

from  the  ruins,  and  destroyed  many.  And  this  thing 
is  confidently  reported  and  believed  by  all,  no  one  man 
ever  calling  it  in  question  *.  Could  a  writer  possibly 
express  more  confidence  in  a  Fact  related  ?  Let  the 
Reader  judge. 

Indeed,   Sozomene  does  observe,  that,  though,   in 

*  the  fact  itself,  all  were  agreed ;  yet,  in  one  circum 
stance  attending  it,  the  evidence  varied  a  little.  A 

*  Aoy®-  yt»  cipoi  rs  TO  $&i>Tt%o»  IvE^itptfv  ru  t^fa,  t£  tnv(>  i%ot,tyvvi$ 
ix  rut  $6/AiAiwv  ru  »iga  cm'Oogi,  xj  croMas  atfavffl'  x}  T£TO  «rgo$  <&<x.tluv 

L'  v.  c-  22. 

passage 


Chap.  IV.]    REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.        157 

passage  of  Gregory  Nazianzene  ill  understood  appa 
rently  betrayed  him  into  this  groundless  remark.  But 
it  Sozomene  mistook  Gregory,  M.  Basnage  has  much 
more  grossly  mistaken  Sozomene. 

Gregory  delivered  his  account  of  the  eruption  in 
these  words — They/led  together  J or  refuge  to  an  ad 
joining  church — As  they  strove  violently  to  force  their 
•way  in,  the  Jire,  which  burst  from  the  foundations  of 
the  temple,  met  and  stopped  them ;  and  one  part  of 
them  it  burnt  and  destroyed*,  8$c.  Sozomene,  allud 
ing  to  this  passage -(after  he  had  told  us,  that  the  fact 
of  the  fire's  breaking  from  the  foundations  was  believed 
by  all,  and  contradicted  by  none)  says,  Indeed  there 
is  this  small  difference  in  the  circumstances ;  some  say 
the  fame  met  them  as  they  were  forcing  their  way  into 
the  church,  and  produced  the  effect  spoken  of  above; 
while  others  say,  it  happened  when  first  they  began 
to  clear  the  foundations  f.  Sozomene,  we  see,  under 
stood  Gregory,  as  if  he  had  meant,  that  the  flame 
Tvhich  met  those  who  were  striving  to  enter  the  church, 
happened  at  some  time  different  from  that  which  was 
said  to  destroy  the  men  working  at  the  foundations. 
But  he  certainly  mistook  Gregory;  who  supposes 
plainly  enough,  that  this  destruction  happened  at  the 
very  time  they  were  digging  the  foundations.  Gregory 
not  only  assures  us  that  the  fact  as  he  tells  it,  stood 
unquestioned  by  all  (v  hich  he  could  not  have  said  had 
it  related  to  another  timt) ;  but  he  expressly  says,  they 
fled  to  this  church  as  to  a  refuge  from  the  whirlwind 
and  earthquake.  Now  the  evidence  is  unanimous,  that 
the  whirlwind  and  earthquake  happened  as  they  were 

*  See  pp.  in,  112. 

•J"  — riA>j»  OTI  [Asv  Qotnv  OT»  PAOL^/J^VS-  aOru;  iff  TO  ttpoy  Gypo\'trattt 
/]j3<racrix,  TO  E.'ftj^iro  sifyoMrttlo'  of  $i,  Upsc  *)p%aAo  rov  ^9 
L.  V.  C.  22. 

preparing 


158      OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  II. 

preparing  the  foundations.    In  a  word,  what  Sozomene 
mistook  for  a  variation,  properly  so  called,  was  two 
different  relations  of  the  different  parts  of  the  same 
event.     Great  numbers  fled  from  the  whirlwind  and 
earthquake ;  and  these  the  fire,  which  burst  from  the 
foundations,  destroyed  as  they  were  striving  to  enter 
the  church :  others  stood  their  ground ;  and  these  were 
destroyed  on  the  spot.    Unwarily,  Sozomene  mistook 
Gregory's  narrative  of  the  state,  in  which  the  same 
eruption  seized  some  of  the  sufferers,  for  the  narrative 
of  a  different  eruption.    But  though  the  ancient  rela- 
tors  of  this  fact  had  indeed  spoken  of  different  erup 
tions,  an'l,  in  ascribing  the  same  general  effect  to  all, 
had  yet  represented  the  workmen  as  destroyed,  while 
buried  in  different  places,  and  in  different  occupations : 
"What  then?  Would  this  have  taken  off  from  the  credit 
of  their  relation  ?    By  no  means.    On  the  contrary,  it 
must  have  added  to  it.    For  we  have  seen  in  part,  and 
shall  see  more  fully  hereafter,  that  tliejits  of  this  fiery 
eruption  were  so  obstinate  as  not  to  give  over  till  it 
had   brought  the  directors  to  despair  of  the  under 
taking. 

But  to  return  to  Sozomene  :  an  attentive  writer 
might  have  fallen  into  his  mistake :  What  drew  M. 
Basnage  aside  is  not  so  easily  understood.  To  in 
terpret  Sozomene  as  saying,  that  it  was  the  new- 
built  temple,  into  which  these  unhappy  sufferers 
strove  to  enter,  when  his  whole  history  shews,  the 
foundations  were  never  finished,  implies  strange  in 
attention  to  his  subject;  or  confidence  in  the  implicit 
faith  of  his  readers.  But  let  Sozomene  speak  for 
himself.  He  says,  thejire  met  them  as  they  strove 
to  enter  «?  TO  I^ov9  into  the  church  or  temple.  And 
to  know  what  place  he  meant  by  these  words,  we 

must 


Chap.  IV.]    REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       159 

must  have  recourse  to  his  author,  Greg.  Nazianzcnc  : 
Who,  in  the  relation  a'1  ready  given  at  large  *,  says, 
that  when  the  Jews  had  procured  the  countenance 
and  assistance  of  Julian  to  rebuild  the  temple,  they 
addressed  themselves  to  the  undertaking,  with  great 
alacrity  and  vigour;  but,  being  driven  from  their 
work  by  a  whirlwind  and  earthquake,  they  fled  for 
refuse  to  a  certain  neighbouring  church,  In  I  n  TM 
wAWcv  if/>«>,  apparently  a  Christian  Oratory,  built 
amongst,  or  adjoining  to,  the  ruins  of  those  sacred 
places,  formerly  included  within  the  walls  of  the 
temple.  This  particular,  Sozornene  takes  from  Gre 
gory:  And  what  the  latter  expresses  by  «n  T»  ru* 
•srXrxrioit  Ispw,  the  other  calls  «?  TO  Itgov,  info  the 
church.  Yet  M.  Basnage  supposes,  he  meant  the 
Jewish  temple  rebuilt.  But  perhaps  he  might  be 
betrayed  into  this  absurd  interpretation,  from  what 
followed  in  Gregory;  who  says,  that  while  they 
were  striving  to  force  their  way  into  this  church, 
a  fire  EX  T»  /«/>»,  met  and  stopped  them.  The  question 
is  what  he  here  meant  by  li^a ;  doubtless  the  same 
with  itpuv,  going  before,  the  Jewish  Temple,  near 
which  the  Christian  Church  or  Oratory  stood.  But 
what  temple?  Not  a  new  one  rebuilt,  but  the  old 
one  in  ruins :  ix  T»  «fp*  signifying  the  same  as  ex  ruy 
$£(*t\iw  TB  ma,  and  with  elegance ;  for  Ipoy  is  the 
generic  word,  and  signifies  as  well  the  site  of  a 
holy  building  as  the  building  itself.  It  appears,  at 
least,  that  Sozomene  understood  the  word  EX  ra  IspZ 
in  this  sense,  from  his  making  all  the  variation  in 
Gregory's  account  from  the  rest,  to  consist  in  his 
assigning  a  different  time  ior  the  destruction  of  the 
workmen ;  and  from  his  express  affirmation,  that  the 
*  From  pp.  110—112. 

witnesses 


160    OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  KTO     [Book  II. 

witnesses  all  agreed  in  attesting,  that  the  fire  came 
from  the  foundations  of  the  ruined  temple.  And  it 
appears,  he  understood  Gregory  rightly;  who,  in 
his  turn,  affirms,  that  the  evidence  were  unanimous 
in  attesting  the  fire  came  1%.  rx  ?£/>»,  by  which  he 
could  mean  nothing  but  the  foundations  of  the  ruined 
temple;  because  it' was  in  that  only  they  were  una 
nimous.  Nor,  for  the  same  reason,  could  Gregory 
mean,  nor  could  Sozornene  so  understand  him,  that 
the  fire  came  from  the  church,  into  which  they  were 
forcing  an  entrance.  And  Gregory  seems  to  have 
wrell  weighed  what  he  says ;  for  in  this  very  place, 
he  carefully  distinguishes  between  uncertain  rumour 
and  established  evidence. 

But,  indeed,  in  every  view,  the  learned  critic's  in 
terpretation  is  insupportable.  The  whole  tenor  of 
Gregory's  relation,  (which  is  in  perfect  harmony 
with  the  rest)  shews  that  the  obstruction  began 
before  they  had  laid  the  foundations. 

On  the  whole,  then/  we  see,  this  variation,  con 
cerning  the  eruption,  is  as  imaginary  as  the  rest. 

M.  Basnasje  proceeds;  and  tells  iis,  there  is  a 
fourth  variation,  concerning  this  miracle  of  the  Fire  ; 
which  is,  that  the  Jews  confessed,  though  in  spite  of 
themselves,  that  JESUS  CHRIST  was  GOD  ;  and  yet 
they  did  not  cease  to  persevere  in  their  attempt ; 
which  (says  the  Critic)  is  a  manifest  contradiction. 

Though  I  would  not  call  this  a  contradiction,  yet 
I  readily  confess  it  to  be  a  high  improbability. 
However,  be  it  what  it  will,  the  Critic  alone  is  to 
answer  for  it.  In  a  word,  the  charge  is  entirely 
groundless,  not  one  of  them  affirming,  or  intimating, 
the  least  word  of  any  such  matter ;  but  on  the  con 
trary,  plainly  declaring  that  this  confession  of  the 

Jews 


\ 


Chap.  IV.]    REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.        161 

Jews  was  not  till  they  had  given  up  the  enterprize, 
as  desperate. 

The  words  of  SOCRATES  are  these:  "The  Jews, 
"  seized  with  extreme  affright,  were  forced,  in  spite 
*'  of  themselves,  to  confess  that  JESUS  CHRIST  was 
"  GOD  ;  yet,  for  all  that,  they  would  not  obey  his 
"  willy  but,  as  men  fast  bound  in  religious  prejudices, 
"  still  continued  in  their  old  superstition.  Nor  did 
"  a  third  miracle,  which  happened  afterwards  (the 
"  shining  crosses)  bring  them  to  the  true  faith  *." 
This  historian  speaks  only  of  the  Jews. 

SOZOMENE  speaks  both  of  Jews  and  Gentiles; 
and  in  the  order  here  named.  —  "  Some  (says  he) 
<f  on  the  instant,  judged  that  CHRIST  was  GOD, 
"  and  that  the  restoration  of  .the  temple  was  dis- 
"  pleasing  to  him  :  while  others,  not  long  after,  went 
"  over  to  the  church,  and  were  baptized  |\" 

TIIEODORET;  again,  speaks  only  of  the  Jews  ;  for, 
after  having  related  the  whole  series  of  miracles,  the 
last  of  which  (in  the  rank  he  places  them)  was  the 
crosses  on  their  garments,  he  goes  on  in  this  manner  : 
"  The  enemies  of  God  seeing  these  tilings,  and 
"  fearing  his  hand,  now  advanced,  might  fall  upon 
"  themselves,  fled  away,  and  returned  every  man  to 
"  his  place  ;  confessing  him  to  be  GOD,  whom  their 
"  forefathers  had  affixed  to  the  tree  ;):." 


'  lascToi  e  tv  piy'ira  <pou>  ytvoptvtH,  KJ  axoiflf?  up.o'hoyuv  Tor 
X%iro»  ®eov  AfyovV  ux.  iiro'utv  3e  uvrs  TO  StA^a,  c-.Xh  tpevov  ry  TU 
laoono'i/,^  t»r|JoAij\|/£i  xgoiitytEm,  woe  yotp  TO  TfiTot  SaD^a  TO  uripof 


?<.  L.  iii.  c.  20. 

—  TOK  (*iv    atrtxa   tx'6>?    ©EOK  t^ai  TOV 
T-/J 


-/J   a-votveum   rti    Kay,    ot    ^»,    ux    elq    ay.sctv   m^oeri^evlo    TV    lxxA>]cr»«  >u 
ivrAvtra.v.      L.  \.  c.    '2'2. 


t  raura  o*  amdcci  9iflWui/AlM»,  jej  ra?  ScnXxra  ?  /^ar«yac  opfuM.ffatles, 
?****    TC    xj   ra    oUira    xaJfXaCo*,    ©EOV    o^o^oySvlf;    TC>   VTTO   -rui 

y'j\'j}»  TUI  %vha  tzrfroc-yjXwOjyla.      I,,  iii.    c.  2O. 

VOL.  VIII,  M  Now 


162      OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  II 

Now  let  the  impartial  Reader  but  reflect,  that 
this  circumstance  of  the  confession,  is  related,  by 
each  of  the  historians,  as  happening  after  all  the 
destructive  interpositions,  which  hindered  the  work; 
and  he  must  needs  conclude,  that  M.  Basnage  has 
given  a  false  representation  of  their  accounts. 

SOCRATES  lets  us  know,  in  what  their  obstinacy 
lay :  not  in  persisting  in  their  project ;  but  persevering 
in  their  superstition. 

SOZOMENE  mentions  only  their  sudden  confession ; 
and  had  he  not  opposed  it  to  the  lasting  conversion 
of  the  Gentiles,  it  must  be  owned  that,  from  him, 
we  could  conclude  nothing  of  their  obstinacy :  but, 
as  he  hath  so  opposed  it,  we  find  his  account  to  be 
perfectly  conformable  to  the  relation  of  Socrates; 
and  discover  even  a  hint  in  the  words,  x)  juri  a^o-OW* 
ry  dvKvturti  T«  ma,  that  they  did  desist  on  their 
confession. 

THEODORET  is  fuller  than  either  of  them,  and 
explains  what  might  be,  otherwise,  thought  doubtful 
in  Both.  He  marks  the  obstinacy  of  these,  who 
(Sozoniene  says)  on  the  instant,  concluded  that  CJrrist 
was  God:  and  the  despair  of  those  who  (Socrates 
says)  continued  in  their  obstinacy. 

Nothing  can  be  clearer,  or  more  consistent  than 
this  whole  account  of  their  behaviour.  Yet  M.  Bas- 
uage  assures  us,  <e  They  are  represented  as  con- 
iessing  CHRIST,  and  at  the  same  time  persisting  in 
their  attempt/'  It  would  be  hard  to  think  it  a 
designed  misrepresentation  :  and  still  harder  to  con 
ceive  how  he  could  fall  into  an  involuntary  error, 
in  a  case  so  evident,  unless  we  suppose  he  mistook 
the  sense  of  Socrates'  expression,  ax  £7ro/av  ^  aur»  TO 
SfAjijua — they  did  not  obey  his  will :  as  if  it  meant, 
they  were  not  obsequious  to  this  declaration  of  fiis  will 

in 


Chap.  IV.]    REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       163 

in  the  prodigies  ;  whereas  §i\ypo<,  is  here  used  in  the 
common  theologic  sense,  of  the  whole  mil  of  Christ  : 
as  appears  from  what  follows,  which,  by  necessary 
construction,  is  ex  pla  native  of  what  went  before 

^IAEVOI/  TYI  TX  'IOTAAI2MOT 
ytzp     TO     rpilov     3\*u/>ta     TO 


But  here,  perhaps,  it  may  be  objected,  That  even 
what  we  ourselves  allow  these  ancient  writers  to  have 
said,  creates  a  difficulty,  which  will  deserve  some 
solution.  "  The  Jews  are  represented  as  confessing 
the  divinity  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  yet  persisting  in  their 
old  superstition  :  surely  a  state  of  mind  made  up 
of  very  discordant  principles."  It  is  true,  the  ob 
jection  will  deserve  to  be  considered  :  and  the  rather 
as  it  is  not  impossible  but  this  might  be  all  M.  Bas- 
nage  aimed  at;  though  he  missed  the  mark  by  a 
careless  expression.  However,  the  objection  is  so 
obvious  ;  and  the  account  has,  at  first  sight,  so  much 
seeming  incongruity,  that,  I  conclude,  these  Historians 
were  well  assured  of  their  fact,  before  they  would 
venture  to  trust  it  to  the  public  judgment.  And, 
when  it  comes  to  be  examined,  I  persuade  myself, 
the  reason  of  things  will  give  us  the  same  satisfaction 
in  its  truth,  which  concurrent  evidence  gave  them. 

If  we  admit  these  prodigies  to  have  happened,  in 
the  manner  they  are  related,  we  cannot  but  conclude, 
that  those,  against  whom  they  were  directed,  how 
hardened  and  determined  soever,  must  be  seized 
with  sudden  astonishment  and  uftVight.  Now,  in  this 
state,  the  mind,  hurried  from  its  oasis,  cat.iies  at 
any  tiling  which  promises  protection.  Nothing  there 
fore  \\cis  so  natural  as  their  applyii^  o  n  object 
offended',  which,  at  that  moment,  could,  be  .bought 
no  other  than  Jesus  oj  J\c  ^areth.  His  power,  t  u, 

ai   '-2  would, 


1 64     OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  II. 

would,  in  spite  of  all  old  impressions,  be  instan 
taneously  acknowledged.  This  is  what  Socrates  means, 
and  well  expresses,  by  saying,  that,  772  their  extreme 
fright,  they  were  forced,  in  spite  of  themselves,  to 
confess  that  Jesus  Christ  was  God. 

So  far  every  thing  was  just  as  the  working  of 
human  nature  would  be,  when  not  hindered  by  any 
foreign  impression. 

But  they  must  know  nothing  of  its  workings,  who 
can  imagine,  that  new  and  contrary  directions,  pro 
duced  by  such  accidents,  in  minds  warped  by  the 
strong  attraction  of  inveterate  prejudices,  and  hardened 
by  a  national  obstinacy,  could  be  regular  or  lasting. 
When  the  fright  was  over,  the  mind  would  return 
mechanically  to  its  old  station ;  and  there  it  would 
rest,  especially  if  it  could  find,  or  even  invent  for 
its  support,  any  solution  of  the  phenomena  con 
sistent  with  their  former  sentiments  concerning  Jesus  : 
and  these,  w^e  shall  see  hereafter,  they  might,  and 
did  invent.  So  that  now  we  are  ready  for  the  con 
cluding  part  of  the  account,  which  Socrates  hath 
given  us  of  this  matter.—  Yet  for  all  that,  they  would 
not  obey  his  will,  but,  as  men  fast  bound  in  religious 
prejudices,  still  continued  in  their  old  superstition. 
He  talks,  we  see,  like  one  who  understood  what  he  said; 
That  their  hasty  cotifession  was  owing  to  their  sudden 
fright',  and  their  fixed  impiety,  to  their  inveterate 
habits.  All  here  is  so  much  in  order,  that  the  con 
trary  had  been  the  unnatural  thing.  Had  they  told 
us,  either  that  the  Jews  were  not  frightened  into 
a  confession ;  or  that  they  were  frightened  into  a 
conversion-,  the  fact  had  been  equally  incredible; 
because,  the  first  case  implied  the  absence  of passions, 
and  the  latter,  a  freedom  from  prejudices;  neither 
of  which  agreed  with  them,  as  men  or-  as  Jews. 
14  But 


Chap.  IV.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.         165 

But  they  relate,  what  was  perfectly  consistent  with 
both,  that  their  stubborn  •  metal  was  softened  in  the 
flames,  and  grew  hard  again  as  these  abated.  And 
have  we  not  many  examples  of  the  like  behaviour  in 
more  modern  reprobates,  who  are  in  the  other  ex 
treme  of  believing  nothing?  What  sentiments  of 
religion  did  we  not  hear  on  a  late  occasion  of  terror, 
where  they  were  never  heard  before  ?  But  what 
symptoms  of  sobriety  remained,  when  the  danger 
was  supposed  to  be  over  !  The  offended  Deity,  which 
they  then  saw  dressed  in  terrors,  was  afterwards 
laughed  at,  as  the  phantom  of  a  frightened  imagi 
nation:  and  that  good  prelate,  who  was  then  so 
much  reverenced  for  his  pastoral  care  in  warning 
them  of  the  danger  of  falling  under  the  justice  of  an 
offended  God,  was  soon  after  pursued  with  a  torrent 
.of  abuse,  as  an  evil  citizen,  who  maliciously  pro 
jected  to  fright  them  out  of  their  wits.  Now,  if 
Free-thinking  can  thus  keep  its  hold,  when  it  hath 
nothing  to  rely  on  but  the  mere  vanity  of  its  pro 
fession;  what  must  we  think  of  superstition,  which 
hath  a  thousand  fanciful  resources  to  support  men 
jn  an  old  habit? 

We  come  now  to  what  M.  Basnage  calls  the  third 
miracle.  And,  concerning  this,  he  reckons  up  as 
many  variations  as  in  that  which  went  before.  But  it 
will  be  proper  first  to  see  how  he  represents  the  miracle 
itself.  His  words  are  these, — their  obstinacy  gave 
occasion  to  a  third  miracle.  For,  in  the  morning, 
they  perceived  a  great  number  of  shining  STARS  scat 
tered  over  their  habits.  His  authority  for  calling  these 
marks,  stars,  is  Sozomene :  who,  indeed,  gives  them 
that  name :  but,  as  I  conceive,  very  erroneously ;  by 
mistaking  the  sense  of  Gregory  Naziau^jue,  whom  IIQ 

M  3  here 


166    OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [BookIL 

here  follows*,  Gregory's  words  are,  xalar^©*  w; 
wliich  Bill i us  translates,  stellatus  nimirum  ipse  notisque 
distinclus ;  following  the  interpretation  of  Sozomene, 
who  calls  them  downright  stars,  ^  rponov  nvx  A2TPA2I 
v£VQt*i\u,£v*  rx  t<rQt[Aotl*  t?xp».  liut  I  apprehend,  that 
Gregory  meant  no  ipore  by  xola'r^^s  than  that  the 
mark  had  a  star-like  radiance ;  not  a  star-like. figure. 
And  my  reasons  are,  i .  Because  he  had  just  before' 
affirmed,  that  these  marks  were  crosses;  and,  pro 
ceeding  in  his  relation,  he  acquaints  us  with  their 
quality,  that  they  were  xoja'rspo*,  or  shining-  A  cir 
cumstance  that  v\  ould  first  catch  the  observation ; 
though,  as  we  have  shewn  f ,  it  may  be  naturally  ac-* 
counted  for.  'He  uses  the  same  term  to  express  the 
shining  feathers  in  a  peacock's  train — TO  -sflepov  xuxAoJi^ 
vrepwa-ott  TO  ^ueratyW  xj  KATAITEpoN  J. — 2.  So- 
crates,  if  he  borrowed  from  Gregory,  gives  this  sense 
to  his  words ;  or,  if  he  did  not  borrow  from  him,  at 
least  he  teaches  us  how  to  understand  him.  His  ex^ 
pression  is  rtyfe^tT&f  r&upa  AKTJNQEIAEI2,  shining 
impressions  of  the  cross.  They  were  like  stars  in  ra 
diance,  but  in  figure  they  were  crosses.  Nor  do 
Rufinus,  Theodoret,  or  Cassiodorus,  who  all  re 
member  the  crosses,  speak  one  word  of  stars ;  no,  not 
even  Thvoph  >nes,  who  studied  them  well;  and  seems 
to  have  had  the  manufacturing  of  a  spurious  sort,  in 
imitation  of  them. 

Thus  much  was   proper  to  be  said :  For,  though 
this  difi;;;ence  of  figure  does  not  in  the  least  affect 

*  It  appears  he  followed  Nazianzene  from  what  he  further  ob-^ 
serves  of  their  elegant  form  :  — «?  a?ro  i 
Soz. — «raa>j?  IrtiflnKM  4/TJ<?'*^®*>  ^  ers^tpyu 

Tt?  ti  y'.vtrat.      N:-iz. 

f  See  p.  120,  6c  seq.  j  Orat. 

our 


Chap.  IV.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.        167 

our  reasoning  on  its  physical  cause,  yet  it  much  im 
pairs  its  moral  meaning  as  a  symbolic  mark.  Which, 
as  Sozomene  could  not  but  see,  it  shews  his  honesty 
at  least,  in  not  concealing  a  mistaken  circumstance, 
though  it  took  off  from  the  awful  significancy  of  the 
impression. 

With  our  Critic's  leave,  therefore,  we  will  call 
them  CROSSES.  And  now  let  us  see  what  he  hath  to 
object  to  them. 

He  preludes  his  reflections  wkh  this  oblique  remark, 
These  shining  stars  they  tried  to  efface,  but  in  vain. 
This  is  said  to  insinuate  discredit  on  the  fact,  by  an 
accession  of  the  wonderful.  But  we  have  shewn,  that 
the  difficulty  of  washing  them  out  was  a  natural  effect 
of  their  shining  quality  * ;  at  least,  a  property  they 
had  in  common  with  other  the  like  appearances  in 
later  times  f .  So  that  this  will  stand  no  longer  in 
our  way. 

He  comes  to  his  variations,  by  which,  as  we  ob 
served  before,  he  sometimes  means  additions ;  some 
times  differences ;  and  sometimes,  again,  contradic 
tions. 

The  jirst  is  the  lowest  species  of  a  variation,  that 
is  to  say,  an  addition. — Sozomene  adds,  there  were 
of  these  stars  so  art  fully  formed,  that  the  hand  if  a 
workman  could  not  have  done  them  better.  Sozomene, 
as  we  observed,  borrowed  this  particular  from  Gregory. 
And  if  Socrates  and  Thcodoret  omit  it,  it  was  not  be 
cause  they  were  ignorant  of  it  ;•  much  less  because 
they  did  not  believe  it.  However,  such  who  know 
that  nature  frequently  casts  the  mixed  substances, 
produced  by  fermentation,  into  regular  figures,  and 
often,  with  that  elegance  of  design  which  art  can  but 
iamdy  imitate,  will  have  no  reason  to  doubt  of  the 

*  P.  121.  t  i*.  125,  i^6. 

M  4  truth 


168    OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  II. 

truth  of  this  circumstance,  after  it  hath  been  shewn  *, 
that  the  marks  were  entirely  meteoric. 

The  second  variation  is,  that  Theodoret  deviates  a 
little  here  ;  for,  instead  of  the  shining  stars,  he  speaks 
of  black  ones.  Such  as  indeed  more  properly  marked 
the  crime  and  punishment  of  the  Jews.  These  last 
words  are  slyly  added  to  recommend  the  ingenious 
turn  of  Theodoret's  addition :  and  to  shew  his  Reader, 
that  the  Father  knew  how  to  invent  with  judgment. 
But  to  leave  his  justification  to  the  nature  of  the  fact, 
which  we  are  just  coming  to,  when  we  have  observed; 
that  M.  Basnage  should  here  have  changed  his  Ian-  * 
guage,  and  used  crosses  instead  of  stars;  for  Theodoret 
does  not  intimate  a  syllable  about  stars.  It  is  true, 
then,  he  does  indeed  say,  that  the  crosses  on  the 
garments  of  the  Jews  were  of  a  dark  colour— IK 
fxsAaiW  xpoias — We  have  seen,  that  the  matter  of  these 
crosses  was  of  the  nature  of  the  Phosphorus,  whose 
property  it  is  to  shine  by  night,  and  to  be  dark- 
coloured  by  day  -)*.  Now  if  one  Writer  were  to 
describe  their  appearance  by  night,  and  another  their 
appearance  by  day,  Must  not  This  say,  they  were 
radiant  and  shining ;  and  That,  that  they  were  dark 
coloured?  And  so  much  for  his  second  variation. 

The  third  \$,  that  Theodoret,  AT  THE  SAME  TIME, 
crushes  to  death  a  great  number  who  were  fast  asleep 
under  a  portico.  The  force  of  this  objection,  such  as 
it  hath,  lies  in  the  time.  For  as  to  the  fall  of  the 
portico,  Rufinus  and  Sozomene  concur  with  Theodoret. 
But  it  is  by  no  means  true,  that  Theodoret  says,  it 
was  at  the  same  time.  If  we  suppose  that  he  observes 
order  in  this  incident,  we  must  conclude  the  fall  hap 
pened  before.  For  the  series  of  his  relation  stands 
thus — a  portico  fell  by  night—on  the  same  night, 

*  P.  120,  f  See  p.  120,  &  seq. 

and 


Chap.  IV.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.        169 

and  on  the  following,  a  cross  in  the  sky  —  then  the 
crosses  on  the  garments  *.  The  truth  is,  the  fall  of 
this  portico  had  a  very  sufficient  cause.  Sozomene 
plainly  intimates,  and  Rulinus  expressly  says,  it  was 
thrown  do  vn  by  \htjirst  earthquake  which  preceded 
the  fiery  e  aiption  f  . 

We  come  now  to  what  the  learned  Critic  calls  the 
great  variation  of  all. 

Which,  he  says,  turns  upon  the  effect  of  the  third 
miracle.  For  one  assures  us,  that  the  Jews  returned 
home  as  hardened  as  if  they  had  seen  nothing  :  whereas 
the  other  two  pretend,  that  the  greater  part  embraced 
the  Christian  faith.  And  that  the  news  of  their  con 
version  reached  even  to  the  cars  of  the  Emperor  Julian 
himself. 

This,  I  confess,  is  to  the  purpose;  and,  were  it 
true,  would  be  a  considerable  objection  to  the  credit 
of  their  evidence.  But  the  contradiction  charged  upon 
them  is  groundless  and  imaginary.  He  who  (our 
Critic  says)  assures  us,  that  the  Jews  returned  home, 
as  hardened  as  if  they  had  seen  nothing,  is  Socrates  ; 
whose  words  are  these  :  "  The  Jews,  seized  with  a 
"  horrible  consternation,  were  forced,  in  spite  of 
"  themselves,  to  confess  that  JESUS  CHRIST  was 
<(  GOD.  Yet  for  all  that,  they  would  not  obey  his. 
"  will.  But,  as  men  fast  bound  in  religious  preju- 
"  dices,  still  continued  in  their  old  superstition  :  nor 
"  did  a  third  miracle,  which  happened  afterwards, 
"  bring  them  to  the  true  faith  —  They  were  hardened, 
"  therefore,  according  to  the  saying  of  the  apostle, 


x}  O.VTU.  &  ruv  'lufeitn  iffQvu.&)a.      L.  iii,   c.  -2O. 
|  See  pp.  129  —  131  , 


170    OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  II. 

"  and  cast  away  the  good  which  was  then  laid  before 
"  them  V 

This,  without  doubt,  is  a  plain  assertion  that  the 
gross  body  of  the  Jews  concerned  in  this  attempt  re 
turned  home  religionless  as  they  carne  ;  without  either 
their  temple,  or  any  holier  worship.  So  far,  therefore, 
is  allowed  ;  and  he  hath  it  to  make  his  best  of; 
which,  we  see,  he  is  willing  enough  to  do  ;  for  he 
takes  notice,  that  the  other  two  historians,  Sozomene 
and  Theodoret,  contradict  Socrates,  and  pretend,  that 
the  greater  part  embraced  the  Christian  faith. 

This  then  is  the  point  to  be  examined.  But  let  me 
previously  observe,  1  .  That  both  Jews  and  Gentiles 
joined  in  the  attempt  to  rebuild  the  temple  ;  and  had 
both  of  them  the  stigma  of  the  cross  upon  their  gar 
ments,  as  Gregory  Nazianzene  and.Rufirius  inform 
us  f-  Nay,  from  Gregory  we  learn,  it  was  impressed 
on  the  habits  of  such  oi  the  believers,  likewise,  as  were 
present.  And,  indeed,  but  for  this  circumstance,  the 
false  miracle  of  Theophanes  had  never  been  invented, 
or  at  least  had  been  differently  fashioned  :  for  he  covers 
the  very  church-  books  and  sacred  vestments  with 
crosses.  And,  what  is  chiefly  worth  observing  is, 
that  this  falling  of  the  crosses  indifferently  on  all 
parties  present,  confirms  the  physical  account  we  have 
given  of  their  nature.  2.  My  second  observation  is, 


itfoar&t       tv  piyiTu  <pu)  •ytvopevci,   t    oxotei;    upohoyxt  rot 
scy  XsyovJf?.  ax  \Tto\vv  St  aura   TO  $fX»»/*a,  aAA*  iptvov  TVJ  TW  'la 
DrpX^iJ/u  x^ara/xEVoV  «3i  ya^  TO   Tpiro*  §a,V{*.c<,    TO   vrtfov 
»$    Tsrif  it  T>5£  ^Ay/o.sta?  ^y«v    a.yT«<j.  —  iptTrupdJvTo   un    xoilot  toy 

^  TO  ciya^v  Iv  ^ff^v  •X°^<*  'pV'7^0'1'     Socr.  L.  iii.  c.  20. 

rt       vvv  ra  l 


pvrat  —  opu    TE    yx-Q  rotvra      tyf         TK,   sr    y»>   TWF   Q/bC^y,   ctT 
&>  —  Naz.    Orat.  ix.  —  In  acquennti  nocte  in  vestimenti« 
omnium  signaculum  crucis.     Ruf.  L.  x.  c.  37. 

TJwt 


Chap.  IV.]    REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       lyr 

That  as  Socrates  records  the  effect  of  this  miracle  on 
the  Jews,  so  Gregory  Nazianzene  records  the  effect 
of  it  on  the  Gentiles  :  For  this  Father  having  insulted 
and  triumphed  over  their  Mathematicians  and  Astro 
nomers  on  the  subject  of  the  aerial  Cross  ;  goes  on  to 
speak  of  that  upon  the  habits  of  the  persons  present  ; 
and  concludes  his  account  in  this  manner:  So  great 
was  the  astonishment  of  the  spectators,  that  almost 
all  oj'  them,  as  at  a  common  sign,  with  one  voice  in 
voked  for  mercy  the  God  of  the  Christians,  and  strove 
to  render  him  propitious  with  hymns  and  supplications. 
And  many  of  them,  without  procrastinating,  but,  at 
the  very  time  these  things  happened,  addressing  them 
selves  to  our  priests  with  earnest  prayers,  were  ad 
mitted  into  the  bosom  of  the  church  *,  §c.  Where 
we  may  observe  the  different  language  of  Nazianzene 
on  this  occasion  speaking  of  the  Gentiles,  from  that 
of  Socrates,  who  spoke  of  the  Jews.  The  first  says, 

rov   ruv   Xpjrtavwi/    ftKttXftAflVttxi    0f  ov  ;    the  Other,    axoj/jfc 

w/AoAoTay  rov  Xpirov  ®fov  heMes.  The  G  entiles  implored 
the  protection  of  the  great  God  of  Heaven,  whom  they 
had  before  neglected:  the  Jews  were  forced  to  own 
that  Christ  to  be  God,  whom  they  had  before 
rejected. 

This  being  premised,  we  come  now  to  Sozomene  and 
Theodoret;  who,  our  learned  Critic  affirms,  have 
contradicted  Socrates,  in  pretending  that  the  greater 
part  embraced  the  Christian  faith. 

I  will  give  the  passage  of  Sozomene  entire.  After 
these  things  [namely  the  earthquake  and  fiery  erup- 

»?,   uq    fj.iy.pu   pi 


OC.VTOV 
'  aura.    TUV   Qvp&at,vluv   Grpocc)fic.lu.oflot<;   roTj   ig 

re   txx^>jcr*a{   ytntrQcu  y-i^j    $$• 
Orat.  ix. 

tion,] 


OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  II. 

tion],  another  miracle  happened,  more  illustrious  and 
wonderful  than  the  foregoing  :  for,  on  a  sudden,  and 
without  human  agency,  every  mans  habit  was  im 
pressed  with  the  sign  of  the  Cross,  —  The  consequence 
vf  this  was,  that  some,  on  the  instant,  concluded  Christ 
to  be  God,  and  that  the  restoration  of  the  temple  was 
displeasing  to  him.  While  others,  not  long  after, 
went  over  to  the  Church  and  were  baptized;  and  by 
hymns  and  supplications,  in  behalf  of  the  guilty,  en 
deavoured  to  appease  the  wrath  of  the  Son  of  God*. 

As  evident  as  it  certainly  is  that  Socrates  spoke 
only  of  the  Jews  ;  and  Gregory  Nazianzene  only  of 
the  Gentiles;  so  certain  is  it,  that  Sozomene,  who 
took  from  both  of  them,  speaks  both  of  Jews  and 
Gentiles. 

He  says,  every  mans  habit  was  marked  with  a  Cross. 
That  is,  as  Greg.  Naz.  had  said  before,  every  mart 
indifferently,  whether  Jew  or  Gentile.  He  then  men 
tions  the  consequence  of  this  prodigy,  not  on  the  Jews 
only,  but  on  the  Gentiles  ;  £/-  T»T*  $1  —  And  as  it  was 
reasonable  to  expect  it  would  have  a  different  effect 
on  these  different  bigots;  lie  first  speaks  of  what  it 
had  upon  the  Jews,  that,  on  the  instant,  they  con 
fessed  Christ  to  be  God.  This  is  no  more  thaq 
Socrates  had  said.  They  only  differ  in  the  manner 
of  telling:  For  while  Socrates  goes  on  to  inform  us, 
in  express  words,  that  the  confession  was  not  lasting, 
and  that  they  presently  fell  back  into  their  old  super 
stition  ;  Sozomene  contents  himself  to  lead  his  reader 
to  the  same  conclusion,  by  opposing  this  sudden  flash 

r    ETT*  T&TV  ol  i^  «.XXo  %uvwi%fi-/i)   Ta  w^ols'py 


TV)       votvzuffti    r      vow*    e»       ,    tm    atj 

x^  jijurail  K^  j;E<7ia»?  i/wlg  ruv 
.     Eccl.  Hist.  1.  v.  c.  22. 

of 


Chap.  IV.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       173 

of  conviction,  to  the  real  and  lasting  conversion  of 
the  Pagans,  as  he  found  it  recorded  by  Gregory. 
Others  (says  he)  not  long  after  went  over  to  the 
church,  Sfc.  From  hence  it  appears,  that  Sozomene 
is  so  far  from  contradicting  Socrates,  on  this  article, 
that  he  lends  him  all  the  support  a  concurrent  testi 
mony  can  afford. 

THEODORET  comes  next.  And  him  too  the  learned 
Critic  hath  involved  in  the  same  charge  of  contradic 
tion;  but  with  much  less  pretence.  For  he,  like 
Socrates,  speaks  only  of  the  Jews  ;  and,  in  such  a 
manner  too,  as  if  he  had  Socrates  all  the  way  in 
his  eye.  The  whole  of  what  he  says  is  to  this  effect  : 
The  very  garments  also  of  the  Jews  were  filled  with 
crosses  —  which  these  enemies  of  God  seeing,  and  fear- 
ing^  that  his  hand,  now  exerted,  might  fall  upon  them 
selves,  fled  away,  and  returned  every  man  to  his  place, 
confessing  him  to  be  God,  whom  their  forefathers 
affixed  to  the,  tree  *. 

And  now,  what  is  there  that  can  countenance  M. 
Basnage  in  saying,  that  Theodoret  pretends  the  greater 
part  embraced  the  Christian  faith  ?  Is  not  the  con 
fession  he  records  the  very  same  with  that  which, 
Socrates  tells  us,  so  soon  passed  away  in  their  re 
turning  infidelity,  insinuated  in  the  very  words,  t& 
•ml^  xarEAaCoi/?  We  conclude,  therefore,  against  the 
learned  Critic's  objection,  that,  in  this  article,  there 
is  a  perfect  harmony  amongst  the  three  historians. 

But  it  will  be  said  perhaps  that,  in  clearing  away 
this  objection,  I  make  room  for  another,  that  may 
prove  more  stubborn,  and  difficult  to  remove.  "  For 


*    K.oti    ctvTci    ^s  Toiv  'ittoccioJv    lcrO/;^ca]a  rotvcu/v  i 
•twQtot   QtoccoifAtVM,   xj  T«?    Ss^aras   ^ar*H*? 
78    >£   toe.   olxu'oi,    xalcXaCop,   -ytov   oftoAoytvlEij  TOV    VTTQ   TU 

|v*w  ipfQ<7V)*uQi*lu,     Eccl,  Hist.  L,  ill.  cup.  20. 


174     OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  II. 

it  seems  incredible  that  so  illustrious  a  miracle  should 
have  made  no  impression  on  the  Jews ;  and  yet  have 
had  so  considerable  an  effect  upon  the  Gentiles.  An 
objection,  which  seems  to  be  redoubled  upon  one 
who  hath  affirmed  *,  that  a  Jew's  conviction  of  the 
truth  of  Christianity  must,  on  his  own  notions  of  the 
unity,  be  necessarily  attended  with  a  conversion  : 
while  that  Polytheistic  principle  of  intercommunity  did 
not  imply  the  necessity  of  a  Gentile's  conversion  under 
the  same  conviction/7 

To  this  I  answer,  It  is  very  true,  that  a-  miracle 
performed  before  a  Pagan,  and  not  directly  addressed 
to  him,  made,  for  the  most  part,  but  a  small  im 
pression  on  his  religious  notions ;  because  that  general 
principle  of  Paganism  hindered  him  from  seeing,  that 
the  evident  truth  of  another  religion  necessarily  im 
plied  the  falsehood  of  his  own.  It  was  different  with 
the  Jew ;  who,  being  a  worshipper  of  the  true  God, 
must  necessarily  regard  his  attestation,  by  miracle, 
not  simply  as  an  evidence  of  the  truth  proposed,  but 
as  an  obligation  upon  all  men  to  embrace  it  Hence 
the  apostle  Paul,  who  best  knew  the  different  geniuses 
of  the  two  opposed  Religions,  says,  The  Jews  require 
a  sign>  and  the  Greeks  seek  after  wisdom:  ZQQW, 
the  religious  principles  of  their  philosophy :  in  the 
chief  of  which  was  the  doctrine  of  intercommunity. 

Had  the  Jews  therefore  considered  this  miracle  at 
Jerusalem,  as  an  attestation  to  the  truth  of  Christianity, 
they  must  have  embraced  it.  And  to  affirm  they  did 
so  consider  it,  and  yet  not  embrace  it,  would,  it  must 
be  owned,  be  saying  something  strangely  incredible. 
But  this  was  not  the  case.  In  their  fright  they  might 
call  out  upon  Christ  as  God;  but  when  that  was  over, 

*  See  Divine  Legation,  Book  II.  Sect.  6.  See  also  Book  V. 
Sect.  6. 

their 


Chap.  IV.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.        175 

their  prejudice  regained  its  hold,  and  drew  them  back 
to  their  ancient  superstition;  however  it  could  not 
have  kept  them  there,  but  that  it  enabled  them  to  find 
a  purpose,  in  this  miracle,  very  well  consistent  with 
Judaism :  and  this  was  God's  anger  at  their  pro- 
phaning  a  work  so  holy,  by  consenting  to  put  it  under 
the  direction  of  a  Pagan  emperor.  This  would  be 
easily  credited  by  those  who  had  learnt  from  their 
sacred  Books  that  an  Israelite  was  struck  dead  but  for 
stretching  out  his  hand  to  uphold  the  falling  ARK. 
When,  therefore,  they  saw  and  felt  these  severe  marks 
of  His  displeasure,  To  what  would  they  ascribe  it, 
but  to  their  accepting  the  impure  assistance  of  an 
impious  Gentile  to  rebuild  the  house  of  the  .  Divine 
presence?  For  could  it  be  expected  (would  their 
leaders  now  say)  when  God  had  denied  this  honour 
to  the  Man  after  his  own  heart,  because  his  hands 
were  defiled  with  blood,  that  he  would  confer  it  upon 
a  Pagan,  a  Warrior,  and  a  declared  Enemy  to  that 
Dispensation;  a  zeal  for  which  was  David's  great 
merit  with  the  God  of  Israel  ?  We  see,  by  the  passage 
quoted  above  *  from  R.  Geddliah  ben  Joseph  Jechaiah, 
that  some  such  reasoning  as  this,  which  a  Father  f  of 
the  church  seemed  to  think  did  not  want  its  weight, 
enabled  them  to  own  the  miracle  without  blushing. 
But  had  they  even  wanted  so  pla  isible  an  evasion,  yet 
their  prejudices  would  not  have  suffered  them  to  be 
nice  in  a  case  where  the  whole  of  their  Religion  lay 
at  stake  :  In  such  cases,  they  were  not  used  to  be 
delicate ;  as  appears  by  a  parallel  instance,  in  the 
*  P.  87. 

•\  St.  Chry  BOS  tome,  speaking  of  the  readiness  of  the  Jews  to 
accept  Julian's  assistance,  says,  —  K«i  «*  yo-xpwilo  o»  fmafd  xj 
a»«»a^t;*lo»  taufcc  uvSfa  ctffiSuq  t£  "EAArji^  rulra  a»T«»]f?,  ac^  TO* 
/Liiafa?  fcxE»vy  ;£*</>«$  xuhtirln;  »7r*  T^»  T«>  f^ylut  0»K0  $»/*£>.  Horn.  v. 
adv.  Jud, 

bungling 


176     OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  II. 

bungling  solutions  they  invented  to  evade  the  conse 
quences  arising  from  the  miracles  of  Jesus  himself. 
Sometimes  they  ascribed  his  power  (as  the  Gospel 
tells  us)  to  the  assistance  of  the  evil  daemon;  and 
sometimes  again  (as  the  books  of  their  traditions  in 
form  us)  to  certain  spells  or  charms  stolen  from  the 
temple  of  Solomon. 

However,  though  the  miracle  at  Jerusalem  was  too 
notorious  to  be  questioned  in  that  age ;  and  so  was  to 
be  accounted  for  in  the  manner  we  have  seen ;  yet  in 
aftertimes  it  was  thought  safer  to  deny  it ,  though  still 
by  the  modest  way  of  an  implication.  Thus  (as  we 
have  seen  above*)  R.  David  Gans  pretends,  that  the 
miscarriage  in  the  Persian  war  prevented  the  rebuilding 
their  temple — Nam  Ctesar  in  hello  Persko  periit. 
Another  of  them  invents  a  very  different  tale  (for  false 
hood  is  rarely  constant),  and  pretends  that  a  sly  trick 
of  the  Samaritans  made  both  the  Jews  and  the  Em 
peror,  in  their  turns,  weary  of  the  project.  But  so 
foolish  a  story  will  hardly  bear  the  telling.  However 
the  reader  may  find  it  below  |.  And  in  this  manner 

too 

*  P.  73,  note. 

f  In  diebus  R.  Jehosuah  Hananias  filii,  mandavit  Imperator 
»t  Templum  recedificaretur.  Papus  autem,  &  JULIANUS  opiparas 
mensas  praeponunt  Juda?is  a  captivitate  advenientibus  (ad  opus 
adjuvandum)  ab  Hako  ad  Antiochiam.  Cutei  vero  sen  Samaritani 
Imperatori  asserunt,  quod  si  Hierusalem  restatiretur,  Judseos  a 
contribuendis  vectigalibus  cessaturos,  indeque  ab  illo  defecturos; 
quibus  Imperator  :  Quomodo  inquit,  licet  mini  ab  incepto  recedere 
post  mcindati  promulgationem  r  Ad  quod  Samaritani,  Domine, 
inquiunt,  pracipe  ergo,  ut  locum  prioris  Templi  mutcnt,  vel  ut 
augeatur  aut  diminuatur  in  longitudine  vel  latitudine  circa  quinque 
cubitos,  itaque,  nullo  cogente,  opus  destituent.  Huic  sententiso 
acquievit  Imperator;  atque  juxta  earn,  novum  misit  Judasis  man- 
datum  in  valle  Bct-Famon  aggregatis,  quo  audito,  in  magnum 
prorumpunt  fletum,  indeque  furore  perciti  de  defectione  loquuntur; 
sed  Magnates  defectionis  consequentiis  valde  perterriti,  implorant 

a  predict* 


Chap.  IV.]  REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.  177 
too  they  treated  the  miracles  of  Jesus  :  for  though,  at 
first,  they  only  tried  to  evade  their  force;  they  ven 
tured  at  length  to  deny  their  reality. 

On  the  whole,  then,  we  see.  That  the  inveterate 
prejudices  of  the  Jews  ;  their  obstinacy  in  the  wroni: ; 
and  their  rttvv.smN  to  the  Christian  name,  would  hinder 
a  miracle  from  having  its  proper  effect  upon  them, 
could  they  but  contrive  either  to  put  it  to  the  support 
of  their  own  superstitions,  or,  at  least,  to  turn  it  from 
the  condemnation  of  them.  We  see,  the  miracle  in 
question  might  be  thus  evaded.  Who  then  can  doubt 
but  they  would  evade  it  ?  The  consequence  was,  their 
continuance  in  error.  The  Christian  writers  tell  us 
they  did  so  continue.  And  we  now  find,  They  say 
nothing  but  what  is  very  probable. 

The  contrary  effect  of  this  miracle  on  Paganism  is 
as  easily  understood.  For  though  the  principle  of  in 
tercommunity  supported  a  Gentile  against  the  power 
of  miracles  at  large  ;  yet  when  he  found  one  of  them 
levelled  at  himself,  as  its  direct  object,  the  case  would 
be  altered.  He  would  then  feel  the  point  in  question 
brought  home  to  him  ;  and  the  circumstances  of  affright 
and  desolation  (if,  as  here,  the  miracle  was  attended 
with  any  such)  would  keep  off  prejudice  till  reason^ 
had  parsed  a  fair  judgment.  The  Jews  and  Gentiles 

joined 

a  prsedioto  R.  Jehosuah,  ut  populum  alloquatur,  eumque  ad  pacera 
adducere  coiietur,  quod  fecit  sequent!  fubula.  Leo  a  fmstulo 
ossis  in  ejus  gutture  iniixo  admodurn  afflictus,  magnain  spondet 
uiercedetn  cuicumque  molestum  os  ab  ejus  guttuie  averruncarrt. 
Acctdit  Grus,  os  averruncat,  &  mercedcm  pent.  Cui  Leo,  Jacta 
te  ipsum,  inquit,  quod  ingressus  es  in  Lcoms  os  in  pate,  8e 
egre«Mib  t>  in  pace.  Sic,  fratres,  sufiicit  ut  iu^ressi  simussub  hujus 
gentis  potentate  in  pace,  &  egrediamur  in  pace.  Hcec  sunt  Reresit- 
Raba  vtrba  fidelitt'r  transluta,  ex  fine  cap.  64.  Hoc  uccidit  anno 
ab  orbe  condito  circa  4833,  secundum  R.  David  Cans  in  ejus 
Zemah  David. 

VOL.  VIII.  N 


173     OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  IL 

joined  cordially  in  this  project.  The  prime  motive  of 
the  Jews  was  a  fond  desire  to  be  restored  to  their 
country  and  religion  ;  but  that  of  the  Gentiles,  a  mali 
cious  purpose  to  give  the  lie  to  Revelation.  And, 
without  doubt,  the  moral  impression  on  the  defeat 
would  be  relative  to  the  motive  of  the  attempt.  They 
thought  to  dishonour  the  holy  faith ;  and  they  added 
new  credit  to  it.  So  that  a  consciousness  of  their  in 
tentions  would  add  proportionable  facility  to  their 
conversion.  The  Jewish  evasion  would  not  serve  their 
purpose.  At  most,  it  could  only  make  them  waver 
between  the  Church  and  the  Synagogue  •  a  state  of 
no  long  continuance.  Sozomene  assures  us  it  was  soon 
over;  In  a  little  time  (says  he)  a*  i\$  ^axpav,  they 
went  over  to  the  Church,  and  were  baptized. 

But,  before  we  leave  this  subject,  it  may  be  proper 
to  observe,  That  general  expressions,  relative  to  par 
ties,  and  bodies  of  men,  are  not  to  be  understood 
universally.  Thus  when  the  Historians  tell  us,  all 
were  marked  with  the  cross,  They  do  not  mean  every 
individual  present ;  but  all  indifferently,  of  every  de 
nomination.  So  again,  when  they  say,  the  Pagan* 
were  converted,  and  the  Jews  remained  hardened, 
They  do  not  mean  every  particular  man ;  but  the  far 
greater  number  in  either  party.  And  thus  St.  Chry- 
sostome  directs  us  to  understand  it,  where  he  says,. 
that  the  Jews  ,f or  the  most  part,  remained  hardened"'. 

It  is  scarce  worth  while  to  take  notice,  that  what  M. 
Basnage  affirms  (of  Sozomene  and  Theodorct's  saying, 
That  the  news  of  the  Jews  conversion  reached  even 
the  ears  of  the  emperor  Julian  himself),  is  as  mistaken 
as  the  rest.  For  Sozomene  says  nothing  of  the  matter : 
and  as  to  Theodoret,  his  words  are  as  follows  :  These 
things  came  to  the  ears  of  Julian,  for  they  were  cried 
*  Tom.  V.  Orat.  xlv.. 

•ft 


Chap.  IV.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.        179 

up,  and  in  the  mouths  of  all  men  ;  but  his  heart  teas 
hardened  like  Pharaohs  *  :  where  we  rr.c,  by  TOCVTX, 
he  means  the  miracles.  For  it  was  not  the  conversion, 
which  was  in  the  mouths  of  all  men,  but  the  miracles. 
And  Julian's  resisting  these,  was  what  made  his  case 
like  Pharaoh's. 

Our  critic,  having  now  well  canvassed  the  evidence^ 
tells  us  for  what  purpose  he  hath  given  himself  this 
trouble  ;  It  teas  to  supply  those  sober  persons,  who  do 
not  believe  the  miracle,  with  arguments  to  fortify 
their  doubts.  But  as  if  something  was  still  wanting 
to  so  good  an  end,  he  resumes  his  task,  and  says,  he 
mil  add  two  observations  more. 

Tbejirst  is,  That  the  argument  Sozomene  brings, 
to  prove  the  truth  of  what  he  advances,  is  a  very  weak 
one.  He  appeals  to  the  issue  ;  and  maintains,  we  can 
no  longer  doubt  of  this  long  train  of  miracles  since  the 
temple  was  never  finished.  But  (says  the  critic)  has 
the  historian  forgot  that  the  Jews  did  not  obtain  their 
permission  till  the  time  of  Julians  setting  out  for  his 
Persian  expedition,  in  which  he  perished?  There  was 
then  little  need  for  all  these  miracles,  to  hinder  the 
erection  of  a  building.  Surely  a  sufficient  cause  of 
cutting  short  an  enterprise  of  this  nature  might  be 
found  in  the  opposition  of  the  Christians,  who  might 
take  advantage  of  the  Prince's  absence  in  a  remote 
region,  his  death  there,  and  the  advancement  of  Jovian 
to  the  Empire,  who  had  an  aversion  for  the  Jews. 
Besides,  the  historian  refers  his  readers  in  a  va^ue 

**  o 

indefinite  manner  to  the  eye-witnesses  of  the  fact,  with 
out  pointing  out  one  single  person  by  name. 

Here  are  many  things  asserted,  that  will  deserve  to 
be  examined. 


Tavra,  IJXWO-E  JMIX  'lwXia*o{,  tactpet  uroifluv  yJb   vjM«*   TU   til   <b  etc  six 
wtfvnt.      L.  iii.    c.   _o. 

x  2  i.  He 


i  So     OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  II. 
i.  He   misrepresents   the   matter,    in   saying   that 
Sozornenc  gives  the  unbuilt  temple  as  a  proof  of  its 
being  obstructed  by  a  miracle.     To  such  reasoning, 
I  own,  M.  Basnage's  observation  of  Julians  absence 
and  death,  $c.    had  been  a  good  reply.     But  Sozo- 
mcne's  argument    stands    thus:    "The   yielding  up 
the   place,    and  leaving  the  work   imperfect,    ipfals 
TO   l^yoif  Kul**ivoflsrt    is  a   proof  of    the    miraculous 
interposition."     Now,  it  is  one  thing  fr>  see  a  Work 
unfinished ;  and  another,  to  know  who  left  it  in  that 
condhion.     From  tlie  first  (which  is  as  M.  Basnage. 
represents  it)  Sozomene's  conclusion  would  not  hold  j 
from  the  latter  (wliich  is  as  Sozomene  himself  puts 
it)  his  conclusion   may  be  very  fairly   drawn.     But 
to  this  it  may  be  objected,    "  That,  at  the  time  So- 
zomenc   made    this    observation,    the   two   different 
representations  amounted  to  one  and  the  same  thing  ; 
because  all   that  the  reader  could  see,    was  a  work 
-unfinished;    and,    for    the    rest,    he   had    only    the 
historian's  word.""    This  our  adversaries  will  allow  to 
be  fairly  put.     But  they  are  not  aware,  that  when 
Sozomene  wrote,  the   face  of  things,    upon  the  place, 
was  such  as  was  sufficient  to  convince  his   readers 
that   the   Jews    and    Gentiles   were    forcibly    driven 
from  their  work ;  namely,   the  marks  of  a  desolating 
earthquake,  and  a  consuming  fire.     Chrysostome  tells 
us,  these  existed  when  he   wrote  5-  and  it  would  be 
absurd  to  think  that  such  kind  of  marks  could   be 
obliterated  so  soon  after. 

Thus  far  in  defence  of  the  historian's  argument, 
falsely  represented  by  the  critic.  I  proceed  to  con 
sider  the  false  fact,  which  the  critic  has  advanced, 
in  support  ^6f  his  false  representation.  He  says, 
that  the  Jews  did  not  obtain  their  permission  to  re 
build  the  temple,  till  the  turn  Julian  set  out  for  his 
.  Persian 


Chap.  IV.]    REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.        181 

Persian  expedition.  This  he  grounds  on  the  words 
of  Socrates,  K^A^E*  TKX&  Kbfytfau  TCI/  ZoXouw^  i/acV 
*£  auTOf  £?rt  n/£<raf  ?Aaim.  Which  the  Latin  translator 
renders,  Solomonh  templuw  protinus  wstaururi  jubet. 
1'psc  interim  ad  bell  ion  contra  Persas  prvfiqisciiur* 
But  l-n\  n//><r«?  &KVVS  does  not  signify  lie  forthwith 
began  his  inarch,  as  if  it  had  been  iir\  n^o-ac 
srof  £usjai ;  but  that  die  began  the  war  against  them, 
by  putting  every  thing  in  a  hostile  motion ;  which 
he  might  do  while  he  staid  at  Antioch.  And  Amm. 
Marcel linus,  who  was,  at  that  time,  with  Julian, 
and  of  his  court,  tells  us,  that  the  eruption  whicU 
put  an  end  to  the  project,  happened  before  his  master 
left  Antioch. 

But  the  critic's  inference  from  this  will  deserve  a 
more  particular  consideration — so  that  there  was 
iil tic  need  of  all  these  miracles  to  hinder  the  erection 
of  a  single  building.  Surely  a  sufficient  cause  for 
cutting  short  an  enterprise  of  this  nature  may  be 
found  in  the  opposition  of  the  Christians,  who  might 
lake  advantage  of  the  princes  alienee  in  a  remote 
region,  of  hi-i  death  there,  and  the  advancement  of 
Jovian,  who  -was  an  enemy  to  the  Jews. 

I  jenj  are  two  things  reprehensible  in  this  inference*. 
).  A  false  state  of  the  case',  2.  and  a  ground/ex* 
insinuation. 

i.  He  speaks  as  if  these  miracles  were  worked 
only  to  hinder  the  simple  erection  of  a  building  lor 
superstitious  worship;  the  error  of  Ambrose,  takrn 
notice  of  above.  AVhereas  there  \vas  inucb  more-  in 
the  affair.  Its  erection  would  have  cofitradicted  the 
prophecies,  and  opposed  the  declared  nature  of  the* 
gospel  dispensation.  In  the  first  case,  there  seemed 


1 82     OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  II. 

no  sufficient  reason  to  interfere;    in  the  latter,  an 
interposition  was  necessary. 

2.  He  insinuates,  that  the  real  obstruction  came 
from  the  Christians  in  Julian's  absence ; — from  his 
unexpected  death; — and  from  the  succession  of  a 
Christian  to  the  empire.  This,  we  see,  is  only  his 
opinion ;  I  think  differently :  and  had  I  nothing  but 
my  conjectures  to  oppose  to  his,  here  I  would  leave 
it :  but,  without  betraying  the  cause  I  have  under 
taken,  I  cannot  omit  to  remind  the  reader,  that  the 
critic's  insinuation  is  utterly  discredited  by  the  con 
current  testimony  of  two  unexceptionable  witnesses, 
Ammianus  Marcellinus,  and  Julian  himself:  from 
both  of  whom  *  we  learn,  that  the  affair  of  the  temple- 
project  was  all  over  before  the  Emperor  removed 
from  Antioch. 

But  there  is  still  something  behind  the  curtain  : 
which,  either  prudence  or  modesty,  made  the  critic 
backward  to  subject  to  the  abuse  of  every  licentious 
reader.  But  I  am  always  for  letting  truth  be  trusted 
with  itself:  therefore,  to  disguise  nothing,  I  would 
observe,  that  one  of  the  strongest  objections  to  the  mi 
racle  seems  here  to  be  obscurely  insinuated.  Whether 
he  saw  it  in  its  full  force  may  be  doubted.  However, 
here  it  is  :  and  the  reader  shall  have  no  reason  to 
complain  that  it  does  not  come  with  its  best  foot 
forward.  I  will  suppose  then  M.  Basnage  to  make 
the  following  objection  : 

"  That,  admitting  the  re  edification  of  the  temple 
was  both  contrary  to  the  words  of  the  old  prophecies, 
and  to  the  nature  of  the  new  dispensation ;  yet,  as 
the  projector  of  this  affront  upon  religion  was  sud- 

*   See  pp.  67,  68.  77,  &  seq. 

denly 


Chap.  IV.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       183 

denly  cut  off,  and  succeeded  by  a  Christian  Emperor, 
before  any  considerable  progress  could  be  made, 
there  was  no  need  of  a  miracle  to  defeat  the  at 
tempt;  and  God  is  not  wont  to  make  a  needless 
•waste  of  miracles. 

The  objection,  we  see,  is  specious,  and,  at  first 
view,  will  be  apt  to  impose  upon  us.  But  let  us 
weigh  its  real  value. 

The  case  b  agreed  to  be  this :  the  two  inveterate 
enemies  of  the  Christian  name  conspire  together, 
though  with  different  views,  to  blast  its  credit,  and 
dishonour  its  pretensions;  and  this,  in  a  point  so 
essential,  that  the  religion  itself  must  stand  or  fall 
with  the  issue  of  the  event. 

They  put  their  design  in  execution.  The  materials 
are  collected,  the  workmen  assembled,  the  founda 
tions  laid,  and  the  superstructure  now  advances 
without  stop  or  impediment.  In  a  word,  every  tiling 
succeeds  to  their  wishes.  When,  on  a  sudden,  one 
of  the  most  common  accidents  in  the  world  blasts 
the  whole  project ;  a  giddy  headstrong  prince  *  pe 
rishes  in  a  rash  adventure  against  a  fierce  and  subtle 
enemy. 

In  this  case,  what  would  the  world  have  thought ; 
the  world,  which  never  thinks  favourably  of  religious 
novelties;  and  which  this  bold  defiance  of  the  power 
of  Christ  had  set  at  gaze,  and  made  impatient  ior 
the  event  |  ?  Would  it  not  have  said,  that  Christianity 

*  The  temper  and  character  of  this  prince  was  so  well 
krown,  that,  when  he  consulted  the  Gods  about  his  fate,  the 
priests  were  in  no  danger  of  discrediting  their  oracles  l;v  z» 
mistaken  conjecture.  They  told  him  he  should  die  a  violent 
death.  This  he  himself  informs  us  of  in  his  lust  harangue  to 
his  friends, — Nee  faieri  pudebit,  intcriturum  me  ierro  duduru 
didici  lido  futidica  pracineute.  A  mm.  Mar.  1.  xxv.  c.  3. 

t  See  pp.  90,  91. 

N  4  was 


1 84  OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO  [Book. II. 
was  beholden  to  a  mere  accident;  while  the  power, 
that  should  have  supported  it,  was  not  at  hand  to 
vindicate  its  credit  and  reputation?  And  it  was  well 
if  they  had  said  no  more.  For  the  popular  story, 
which  the  malice  of  the  Pagans,  and  the  indiscre 
tion  of  some  Christians,  had  set  agoing,  that  Julian 
&>a$  assassinated  by  a  Christian  soldier,  would,  in  that 
case,  have  been  enough  to  raise  suspicions  that  the 
faith  had  been  propagated,  at  first,  by  as  indirect 
means  as  it  was  now  supported. 

The  Jews  had  twice  before  projected    the   resto 
ration  of  their  tcmpk-worship :  once  under  Hadrian ; 
and  once  again,  under  Constantino.    At  those  junctures 
the    attempt  had  none  of  this    malice    and    formed 
impiety  against  the  divinity  of  our  holy   faith.     The 
Gentiles  then  gave  the  Jews  no  assistance  or  support  : 
and   it  was  in   them  a  simple,  natural  desire  of  re 
turning  to  their  own  land,  and  of  re-establishing  their 
country-rites.     But  still,  it   being  contrary  to   Gods 
religious  economy,  the  design   was  defeated  by   the 
policy    of  Hadrian,    and   the    zeal    of   Constantino; 
and  these  civil  impediments  were  sufficient  to  cover 
the  honour  of  religion.     For,  in  these  two  instances, 
God's  transaction  was  only  with  his   church.     He 
promised  to  support  it  to  the  end  of  time,  and  lie 
equally  performs  his  promise,  whether  that  protection 
be  conveyed  by  the  mortal  instruments  with  which 
lie   works  in   the  course  of  his  general  providence, 
and  whose  blindness  is  guided  by  his  all-seeing  eye  ; 
or  whether  it  be  immediately  afforded   by  the  sudden 
arrest  and  new  direction  of  nature,  irresistibly  impelled 
by  his  all-powerful  hand. 

But  the  case  was  different  in  the  affair  before  us, 
lit  re  God  had  a  controversy  with  his  enemies.  His 
power  was  defied,  his  protection  scorned,  and  his  J 

Godhead 


Chap.  IV.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       185. 

Godhead  dared  and  challenged  to  interpose  between 
them  and  his  servants.  At  this  important  juncture, 
to  let  a  natural  event  decide  the  quarrel;  and  to. 
urge  that  as  a  proof  of  his  victory,  would  be  taking 
for  granted  the  thing  in  question.  For  the  affair  was 
not  with  his  friends,  who  believed  his  superinten- 
dency  ;  but  with  his  enemies,  who  laughed  at  and 
despised  it.  Not  to  shew  himself,  on  this  "occasion, 
in  all  the  terror  of  offended  majesty,  must  have 
exposed  his  religion  to  the  same  contempt  as  if  the 
very  pinnacles  of  the  new-projected  temple  had  been 
completed. 

But  this  is  not  all.  A  PROPHECY,  such  as  this, 
concerning  the  final  destruction  of  the  temple,  is  of 
the  nature  of  a  PROHIBITORY  LAW.  For  God's  fore 
telling  a  thing  should  never  be,  contains  in  it  a  pro 
hibition  to  do  it:  because  that  information  is  founded 
in  his  own  will,  or  command  ;  not  in  the  will  or  com 
mand  of  another:  therefore  that  zci-ll  binds  all,  to 
whose  knowledge  it  arrives.  This  law  came  to  the 
knowledge  of  our  projectors,  as  appears  from  their 
very  impiety  in  defying  it  *.  But  it  is  of  the  nature 
and  essence  of  Law,  to  have  penal  sanctions.  With 
out  them,  all  laws  are  vain;  especially  prohibitory 
Jaws.  Now  these  transgressors  were  as  culpable  in 
beginning  the  foundations,  as  they  could  have  been 
had  they  lived  to  finish  their  work.  Therefore  to  see 
them  escape  punishment,  and  safely  and  quietly  go  off 
when  the  change  of  times  forbad  them  to  proceed  (a 


ot    {.<.l>    yotg  tire     IttoigMtf    finStltft 
TJJ?   <r7ra^?,  y^oXaiCo/Jif,  }4fW0ai   Kulo^zv    rl 
rMfpi)<r»tf.    ol   at,  •*/. 
TO      iigot.  —  T>;y 

9ppfi)tftt   hitiyxfir.     'i'hcod.  1.  in.    c. 


change, 


186      OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  II. 

change,  which  had  nothing  in  it  more  wonderful  than 
the  death  of  a  rash  adventurer  in  hattle)  must  have 
argued,  that  God  was  no  more  concerned  in  the  issue 
of  this,  than  of  all  other  natural  events ;  and  conse 
quently,  that  these  boasted  prophecies,  and  this  pre 
tended  gospel,  were  the  inventions  of  men.  I  helieve 
modern  infidels  would  scarce  have  spared  us,  had  they 
taken  church-history  at  this  advantage. 

But  now,  by  a  timely  interposition,  the  honour  of 
religion  was  secured  :  And,  an  exemplary  punishment 
being  inflicted,  the  reverence  of  his  laws,  the  credit  of 
his  messengers,  and  the  regal  dignity  of  his  Son,  were 
all  amply  vindicated. 

While  I  am  upon  this  subject,  let  me  observe, 
\diat,  perhaps,  I  might  have  found  a  better  place  for, 
that  the  forbearance  of  Jovian  and  Valentinian  to 
revenge,  on  those  forward  creatures  in  power,  the 
insults  and  injuries  offered  on  this  occasion  to  many 
peaceable  and  honest  men,  is  no  slight  proof  of  the 
reality  of  a  miraculous  interposition.  For  it  shewed 
the  church  fully  satisfied  that  God  had  avenged  his 
own  cause.  Gregory  Nazianzene  ends  his  Discourse 
against  Julian  with  an  excellent  persuasive  to  forgive 
ness;  wherein  he  exhorts  the  Christians  to  sacrifice 
their  resentments,  as  a  Thank- offering,  to  God : 
tft&i&fAc?  (says  he)  TW  ©rj  y*j>iwpu>+. 

Thus  having  set  this  objection  in  the  best  light  we 
were  able,  both  for  the  honour  of  religion,  and  the 
credit  of  M.  llasnage's  criticism ;  and  seen  to  what  it 
amounts :  we  leave  it  to  the  reader  to  make  his  con 
clusions  on  the  general  question. 

M.  Basir-« .^c  goes  on  in  these  words, — Besides,  the 
historian  [SozomeneJ  refers  his  readers  in  a  vague 
indefinite  wanner  to  the  eye-witnesses  of  the  fact, 
without  pointing  out  one  single  person  by  name. 

Objectors 


Chap.  IV.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       187 

Objectors  are  often  too  careless  where  their  random 
reflections  will  light.  This  will  fall  upon  the  Apostle's 
narrative  as  well  as  our  historian's.  St.  Paul,  arguing 
against  some  who  denied  the  Resurrection  from  the 
dead,  confutes  them  by  the  Resurrection  of  Jesus; 
who  was  seen,  after  he  was  risen,  ofab&oejvoc  hundred 
brethren  at  once,  of  whom-  (says  he,  without  specifying 
any  one  by  name)  the  greater  part  remain  unto  thix 
present,  but  some  are  J  alien  asleep  *. 

Sozomene  writes  a  general  history  of  the  church, 
for  the  use  of  the  whole  Christian  world  :  and  speaking, 
in  its  place,  of  the  event  at  Jerusalem,  he  concludes 
his  account  in  this  manner  :  Should  these  things  seem 
incredible  to  any  one,  those  who  have  had  their  infor 
mation  from  eye-witnesses,  and  are  yet  alive,  will  con 
firm  it  to  him  f.  Of  which  number,  if  he  himself  was 
not  one  ;  yet,  at  least,  he  had  his  account  from  one. 
In  either  case,  this  was  proper  satisfaction  to  a  doubter. 
And  it  had  been  impertinent  to  add,  that  "  amongst 
these  were  John,  Thomas  or  Andrew  of  Jerusalem  ;" 
obscure  names,  which  would  have  given  his  reader  no 
more  satisfaction,  than  what  his  general  information 
had  conveyed  before.  But  it  may  be  said,  that  St.  Paul," 
besides  his  vague  account  of  Jive  hundred,  adds  the 
names  of  Cephas,  James,  and  himself.  And  so,  doubt 
less,  would  Sozomene  have  done,  had  he  either  seen 
it  himself,  or  known  any  that  had,  with  whose  names 
bis  reader  was  as  well  acquainted,  as  the  Corinthians 
were  with  Cephas,  Jarnf^,  and  the  rest  of  the  Twelve. 
"What  he  hath  dono  was  what  common  sense  dictated 
he  should  do.  But  M.  Basnage  seems  to  expect  in  a 
general  history  all  the  circumstance  and  precision  of  a 


Cor.  xv.  6. 

« 

IT*   7a       u     tr<;  liic;.         .   y. 

However, 


1 88     OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  II. 

However,  thus  much  we  learn  from  these  vague 
words  of  Sozornene,  that  he  was  not  a  mere  copier  ; 
but,  to  verity  his  story,  went  as  nigh  the  fountain-head 
as  lie  could  get.  And  this  being  the  practice  of  these 
three  honest  and  judicious  historians,  we  need  not 
wonder  that  one  should  mention  tlds  incident,  and 
another,  that,  just  as  they  received  their  information 
from  the  most  credible  of  thejirst  ear-ii.it nesses  they 
could  find  then  alive :  \vhich  too,  by  the  way,  is  sufii- 
cientto  take  off  all  M.  Basnagc  urges  on  the  head  of 
variations.  But  had  we  taken  his  VARIATIONS  from 
him,  what,  were  he  then  ?  An  artist  without  the  proper 
tool  of  his  trade;  for  a  professed  objector  never  borrow 
ed  more  than  this  from  the  magazine  of  Quintilian ••— 
ARTIFIGIS  est  Imenlre  in  act  tone  ackcrsani  qua  inter 
scmetlpsa  pu-gnent,  ant  PUGNAUE  YIDEANTCK. 

We  are  now  come  to  the  end  of  this  long  piece  of 
criticism,  uhieh  concludes  in  these  words  :  But  lastly, 
Cyril  of  Jerusalem,  who  was  at  that  time,  Bishop  of 
the  place,  and  must  have  been  upon  the  spot,  since  it 
was  he,  zvho,  confiding  hi  a  prophecy  of  Daniel  (which 
had  foretold,  as  he  thought,  that  the  atlcmpt  would 
prove  unsuccessful)  encouraged  and  animated  the  peo 
ple  to  repose  thtir  confidence  in  God.    Notwithstanding, 
this  same  Cyril  hath  never  taken  the  least  notice  of 
these  many  miracles :  and  yet  it  certainly  was  not, 
because  he  was  no  friend  to  miracles  :  we  are  told  he 
wrote  to  fynstantim  the  Younger,  to  Inform  him,  that 
he  was  more  happy  than  hi*  fat  her,  under  whose  empire 
the  Cross  of  Christ  had  been  found  here  on  earth ; 
since  Heaven,  to  grace  Iris  reign,  had  displayed  a  more 
illustrious  prodigy:  which  was  a  cross  much  brighter 
than  the  Sun,  seen  in  the  firmament  for  a  long  time 
together,  by  the  whole  city  of  Jerusalem.     Why  now 
was  that  cross   remembered,  and  all  the.se  miracles 

forgotten  ? 


Chap.  IV.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       189 

forgotten  ?  He  assures  the  Jews  they  .shall  see  the  wir;? 
'o/'rtie  cross ;  and  that  it  will  precede  the  coming  of  the 
Xon  of  God ;  and  yet  he  says  not  one  word  of  those 
which  had  been  miraculously  affixed  on  their  habits. 
The  silence  of  a  Bishop,  who  was  upon  the  place,  who 
loved  miracles,  and  laboured  for  the  conversion  of  the 
Jvivs,  looks  very  suspicious ;  while,  at  the  same  time, 
those  who  do  speak  to  it  lived  at  a  distance. 

The  supposed  fret,  as  here  stated,  concerning  Cyrifs 
testimony,  is  indeed  a  material  objection  to  the  miracle. 
What  shall  we  say  then  ?  Would  not  any  one  conclude 
that  this  learned  man,  a  real  friend  to  Revelation,  and 
faithful  historian,  had  weighed  it  well  before  he  ven 
tured  to  pronounce  upon  its  consequences,  in  so  public 
a  manner?  Who  would  suspect  that  he  has  taken  for 
granted  o?w.  thing,  which  every  body  knows  to  be  false ; 
and  another,  which  nobody  can  know  to  be  true  ? 

He  takes  it  for  granted,  that  the  works  which  now 
remain  pf  Cyril  were  written  after  the  event ;  whereas 
they  were  all  written  before.  These  are  the  Catecheses 
ad  competentes,  the  Catecheses  mystagogica,  and  the 
Epistle  to  Const antius  :  the  two  first  bear  date  about 
347,  and  the  latter  in  351;  those,  sixteen;  this, 
twelve  years  before  the  miracle  in  question.  And  the 
worst  in,  the  learned  critic  could  not  but  know  it. 

If  he  had  no  intention  to  deceive  by  this  captious 
insinuation,  we  must  lay  the  blame  on  his  careless 
expression ;  and  that  his  argument  from  Cyril's  silence, 
when  set  in  the  best  light,  stands  thus  : 

"  The  pretended  miracle  at  the  temple  of  Jerusalem 
happened  in  the  year  363.  Cyril  lived  to  the  year 
386,  so  that  we  cannot  but  conclude,  he  wrote  and 
preached  much  within  that  period.  He  appears  to  be 
fond  of  recording  miracles  :  but  he  had  peculiar  reasons 
to  celebrate,  and  expatiate  upon,  this.  .It  favoured 

his 


OF  JULIAN  >  ATTEMPT  TO  [Book  II. 

his  charitable  zeal  for  the  conversion  of  the  Jews ;  but, 
above  all,  the  glory  of  it  reflected  much  lustre  upon 
bin;.-  lie  had  predicted  the  defeat.  Had  lie  the  re- 

fore  known  it  to  be  true,  he  must  have  recorded  it, 
But  the  silence  of  antiquity  concerning  his  testimony 
shews  he  did  not  record  it.  For  to  whom  but  to  Cyril, 
die  Bishop  of  the  place,  and  then  upon  die  spot,  should 
the  ancient  relators  of  the  fa*:  appealed  ?  Yet 

he  was  not  forgotten  in  the  crowd  :  for  they  tell  i:?  : 
his  iaith  in  the  prophecy  of  Daniel*  We  must,  there 
fore,  conclude,  that  the  event,  whatever  it  was.  had 
struck  ^he  good  bishop  dumb ;  and  that  his  silence 
proceeded  from  that  sort  c:  ion,  which  we  now 

adays  see  in  the  modester  part  of  oar  Recdatim- 
Prophets,  when  some  unexpected  event  between  the 
Turk  and  the  Emperor  has  disconcerted  the  scheme 
they  had  chalked  out  for  the  direction  of  Divine  Pro 
vidence. 

It  win  hardly  be  thought,  I  have  not  done  the  argu- 
meat  justice.  Let  us  see  then  what  can  be  said  to  it. 

1 .  Whether  Cyril  left  any  thing  behind  him  (except 
what  he  wrote  before  the  event)  is  not  any  where  said. 
Some  perhaps  may  conclude  from  Jerom,  that  he 
wrote  nothing  after  this  time :  For,  in  Jerom's  cata 
logue  of  ecclesiastical  writers,  the  works  mentioned 
above  are  given  as  a  complete  list  of  what  Cyril  wrote : 
and  it  is  scarce'  to  be  supposed  that  any  of  liis  writings 
should  have  perished  between  his  time  and  that 
v  •: ;:  .:. 

_  v  ;il  might  write  many  things,  and  yet  none  re 
lative  to  this  ankir:  or  in  which  he  could  properly 
introduce  it. 

3.  He  might  have  given  the  history  of  it  in  all 
circumstances,  and  yet  these  three  historians  (to  whom 
M.  Basoage's  observation  is  confined)  not  been  guilty 

of 


Chap.  IV.]    REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       101 

of  any  neglect  in  not  mentioning  his  testimony  by  name. 
Or  if  it  were  a  neglect,  it  was  the  same  they  committed 
in  pasiin*  over  .IT  contemporary  writers,  Gre 

gory  Nazianzene  and  John  Chrysostome ;  one  of  whom 
has  spoken  fully,  and  the  other  frequently  to  the 
miracle  in  question.  But  to  this,  perhaps,  it  may  be 
replied,  "  That  though  they  have  not  quoted  them, 
yet  they  have  referred  to,  and  borrowed  from  them." 
How  does  the  objector  know  that? — From  the  hom&es 
of  the  one,  and  the  Invectives  of  the  other,  now  re 
maining. — Very  well :  and  for  aught  he  knows  to  the 
contrary,  had  any  of  Cyril's  supposed  works  been  re 
maining,  we  should  have  found  them  quoting  from,  and 
referring  to  him;  especially,  as  they  relate  several 
circumstances,  mentioned  neither  by  Gregory  nor 
Chrysostome.  Had  Gregory's  works  been  lo-t, 
had  been  as  unable  to  know  that  they  borrowed  from 
him,  as  we  now  are  that  they  borrowed  from  C; 

4.  As  to  their  recording  the  good  bishop's  prophetic 
confidence  in  the  divine  interposition,  and  at  the  same 
time  overlooking  his  testimony  to  the  miracle  that 
followed,  a  very  good  reason  may  be  given ;  and  such 
a  one  as  does  honour  to  their  judgment.  Cyril  was 
singular  in  the  first  case  ;  and  but  one  of  waxy  in 
other.  They  took,  therefore,  from  him  what  no  other 
could  supply  :  and  what  was  to  be  found  every  where 
(the  testimony  to  the  miracle)  they  left  in  common  to 
the  church. 

As  to  the  objection,  from  the  circumstance  of 
C,  ill's  loring  miracles,  let  me  observe,  that  if  it  could 
be  proved  from  a  work  of  his  written  after  363,  that 
he  had  neglected  any  fair  occasion  to  record  the  defeat 
of  Julian,  the  objection  would  have  some  weight.  But 
in  the  total  uncertainty  whether  he  did  record  the  story 
or  no,  it  turns  against  the  objector,  as  the  circum 
stance 


193      OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  II. 

stance  of  Cyril's  loi-htg  miracles  adds  probability  to 
the  affirmative,  that,  if  he  did  write  at  all,  he  would 
find  room  for  a  subject  he  loved  to  write  upon. 

(>.  But  since  the  learned  critic  hath  been  pleased 
tosjxvJv  slightly  of  this  excellent  prelate,  as  if  he  were 
both  iamtical  in  interpreting  prophecies,  and  bigotted 
in  believing  miracles  ;  so  much  will  be  due  to  the 
virtues  of  a  worthy  man  (how  far  soever  removed  in 
time  and  place),  as  to  vindicate  him  from  unfair  asper 
sions  ;  due  especially  from  us,  as  this  justice  to  his 
character  will  be  seen  to  reflect  credit  on  the  share  he 
took  in  opposing  Julian's  attempt.  There  is  a  story 
recorded  of  him,  for  which  every  good  man  will 
reverence  his  memory.  He  had  an  ecclesiastical  squab 
ble  with  Acacius  Bishop  of  Ca?sarea,  about  Metropo- 
litical  jurisdiction.  Cyril  despised  so  frivolous  a  con 
test;  and  refused  to  appear  before  the  Palestine  Synod, 
to  which  his  factious  adversary  had  delated  him. 
Whereon,  the  Synod  agreed  to  depose  Cyril,  for  con 
tempt.  But  to  give  their  sentence  a  shew  of  credit 
against  so  distinguished  a  personage,  they  added  this 
crime  to  the  other,  that  once,  in  a  desolating  famine, 
he  disposed  of  the  treasures  of  his  church  to  feed  the 
poor.  This  action,  so  becoming  a  faithful  minister  of 
Jesus  Christ,  fully  shews,  that,  whether  he  had  a  right 
to  metropolitical  jurisdiction  or  no,  he  well  deserved 
it.  But  the  cr  "ng  part  of  this  sacrilege  is  yet  behind  : 
it  seems,  that  in  the  sale  of  his  sacred  wardrobe,  a, 
reverend  Stole,  interwoven  with  gold,  and  made  yet 
more  illustrious,  by  the  sanctity  of  its  giver,  Constan- 
tine  the  Great,  came  at  length,  in  the  ceaseless  round 
of  property,  into  the  possession  of  a  notorious  pros 
titute,  who  flourished  with  it  on  the  public  stage. 

M.  Basnage  concludes  his  remark  on  Cyril  in  this 
manner :  The  silence  of  a  bishop,  who  was  upon  the 

place, 


Chap.  IV.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.        193 

place,  looks  very  suspicious  ;*  while,  at  the  same  time, 
those  who  do  speak  to  it  Heed  at  a  distance.  Admit 
ting  the  bishop  was  indeed  silclft,  How  could  this 
learned  man,  who  for  us  his  charge  on  the  information 
of  the  three  Historians,  say,  that  those  who  speak  to 
the  miracle  Heed  at  a  distance',  when  Sozornene 
plainly  tells  us,  that,  at  the  time  he  wrote,  there  were 
several  still  living,  who  had  it  from  the  eye- witnesses 
of  the  fact  ?  Here  then,  for  the  silence  of  one  man, 
we  have  the  testimony  of  many.. — But  Sozomene  speaks 
of  none  by  name — Who  knows,  then,  but  the  bishop 
might  be  amongst  the  nameless?  It  hath  been  many 
a  bishop's  fate.  However,  the  testimony  of  the  people 
on  the  place  is  directly  asserted  by  the  historian  ;  and 
the  silence  of  Cyril  only  inferred  by  the  Critic,  from 
his  not  finding  him  amongst  the  witnesses. 

And,  with  these  reflections  on  the  good  prelate,  so 
unworthy  the  learning,  the  sense,  and  the  ingenuity 
of  M.  iJasnagc,  he  concludes  his  OBJECTIONS  against 
the  miracle. 

What  follows  is  to  shew  his  impartiality.  "  However 
i(  (sa\s  ht>)  it  O"u>ht  not  to  be  dissembled,  that  it  one 
"  of  the  Jewish  Chroaoloiiisis  maintains,  that  the 
"  sudden  and  unexpected  death  of  Julian  prevented 
"  the  rebuild  ing 'the  temple;  anothci  of  tirom  assures 
"  us,  it  was  rebuilt;  and  tint  when  this  was  d;>:io  at 
"a  vast  expcnce,  it  tumbled  dov.ii  again;  aii'J,  the 
<c  next  day,  a  dreadful  tire  from  heaven  melted  «.dl  the 
"  iron  instruments  \\hich  remained,  and  destroyed  an 
"  innumerable  multitude  of  ihe  Je<\s.  This  cuir/r.— ion 
"  of  the  Rabbins  is  the  more  considerable,  as  it  re- 
"  fleets  dishonour  on  the  nation ;  ;,nd  these  gentry 
"  are  not  uont  to  copy  from  the  \\rilings  of  the 
"  Christians." 

Here,  it  must  be  owned,  he  hath  approved  himself 
VOL.  VIII.  O  indifferent ; 


194     OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  II. 

indifferent:  and  if  his  arguments  against  the  miracle 
be  more  ia  number,  than  those  Jor  it ;  the  weight,  at 
least,  on  both  side"  is  equal. 

Not  that  I  would  insinuate,  as  if  this  Rabbinical 
testimony  was  altogether  impertinent.  I  have  myself 
produced  it  in  support  of  the  evidence  * :  and,  prin 
cipally  for  the  sake  of  that  circumstance,  which  M. 
Basnage  so  ingenuously  acknowledges — That  the  Rab 
bins  are  not  wont  to  copy  jrom  Christian  writers. 

Nor  will  I  deny,  that  this  testimony  hath  its  proper 
place  in  a  religious  History  of  the  Jews.  What  I 
cannot  reconcile  to  this  great  man's  general  character, 
nor  even  to  that  air  of  impartiality  which  he  here  pro 
fesses  to  preserve,  is,  that  when  he  hath  brought  out 
all  he  could  invent  to  the  discredit  of  the  miracle,  he 
should  content  himself  with  producing  only  one  single 
circumstance,  and  that,  the  least  considerable,  in  its 
favour.  Insomuch  that  if  ever  the  conclusive  testimo 
nies  of  Ammianus  Marcellinus,  Gregory  Nazianzene, 
and  John  Chrysostome,  should  be  lost,  and  this  piece 
of  criticism  remain,  the  silence  of  so  candid  and 
knowing  a  writer  as  M.  Basnage,  will  be  infinitely  a 
better  proof  that  no  such  evidence  had  ever  been, 
than  what  he  himself  urges,  from  the  silence  of  an 
tiquity,  against  the  testimony  of  Cyril. 

But,  to  end  with  this  learned  Critic.  There  is,  I 
must  confess,  something  so  very  odd  in  his  conduct  on 
this  occasion,  as  cannot  but  give  offence  to  every  sober 
Reader.  Yet  I  would  by  no  means  be  thought  to 
approve  of  Mr.  Lowth's  uncharitable  reflections : 
which  stand  (as  they  often  do  amongst  worse  writers) 
in  the  place  of  a  confutation.  One  may  allow  M. 
Basnage  to  have  thought  perversely ;  because  this  is 
an  infirmity  common  to  believers  and  unbelievers: 

*  Pp.  87,  88. 

But 


Chap.  V.]      REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.        195 

But  one  would  never  suspect  a  Minister  of  the  Gospel 
of  a  formed  design  to  undermine  a  Religion  into  whose 
service  he  had  solemnly  entered ;  nor,  a  man,  truly 
learned,  of  a  bias  to  infidelity  :  such  dispositions  imply 
gross  knavery  and  ignorance ;  and  M.  Uasnage  ap 
proved  himself,  on  all  other  occasions,  a  man  of  un 
common  talents  and  integrity. 

A  strong  prejudice  against  the  character  of  the 
Fathers  was  what,  apparently,  betrayed  him  into  this 
unwarrantable  conclusion  :  for,  injuriously  suspecting 
them  of  imposture  \vhene\er  they  speak  of  miracles, 
he  began  with  them  where  he  should  have  ended  ;  and 
read  their  accounts,  not  to  examine  facts  yet  in  question, 
but  to  condemn  frauds  as  already  detected.  Hence 
every  variation,  nay,  every  variety  in  their  relation?, 
appeared  to  him  a  contradictkn.  And  that  which 
indeed  supports  their  joint  testimony,  was  by  this 
learned  man  imagined  to  be  the  very  thing  that  over 
threw  it.  But  their  best  vindication  is  a  strict  scrutiny 
into  their  evidence  *.  This  we  have  attempted ;  not 
as  an  advocate  for  the  Fathers,  but  an  Inquirer  after 
Truth.  What  hath  been  the  issue  must  be  ieU  to  the 
judgment  of  the  Public. 


CHAP.    V. 

WE  go  on  with  the  remaining  objections  to  this 
miracle,  in  which  we  shall  be  more  brief. 

V.  In  the  next  place  it  is  pretended,  "  That  tins 

*  Whoever  will  lake  the  pains  of  examining  what  the  Fathers, 
and  particularly  Gregory  Naziauzene,  say  of  this  miracle,  und 
will  compare  it  with  their  sentiments  of  the  extraordinary  re 
ports  that  went  about,  concerning  Julian's  death,  will  see  cause  to 
confess,  that  they  were  not  bo  credulous  or  so  designing  as  they 
have  been  represented. 

O  2  fiery 


io6     OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Bcok  II. 

fiery  eruption  was  an  AUTIFICIAL  contrivance  of  the 
Christians  to  keep  their  enemies  at  a  distance.  It  is 
said,  the  Egyptians,  from  the  earliest  times,  had  the 
secret  of  mixing  combustible  materials  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  produce  the  effects  of  exploded  gun 
powder  :  That  Sir  William  Temple,  Lord  Herbert 
of  Cherbury,  and,  an  abler  man  than  either  of  them. 
Sir  Thomas  Browne  of  Norwich,  have  dropt  hints 
as  if  some  of  the  greatest  wonders,  both  in  sacred 
and  profane  antiquity,  were  the  effects  of  this  des 
tructive  composition;  such  as  the  thunders  and  light 
ning  at  the  giving  the  law  from  mount  Sinai ;  the 
deaths  of  Korah,  Dathan,  and  Abirain,  in  their 
contest  with  Aaron  ;  and  the  defeat  of  Brennus  and 
his  army  of  Ganls  when  they  assaulted  the  temple 
of  Apollo  at  Delphi.  This  too,  they  say,  will  account 
for  a  strong  mark  of  resemblance,  between  the  latter, 
and  the  defeat  of  Julian;  in  both  which  the  im 
pending  destruction  was  predicted ;  in  the  one  by 
Cyril;  in  the  other,  by  the  priests  of  Apollo*." 

The  objection,  we  see,  supposes  full  pcwer .  and 
Opportunity,  as  well  as  profound  address  in  these 
Christian  engineers :  for  let  them  be  as  knowing  as 
you  will,  in  all  the  hidden  arts  of  Egypt,  yet,  if 
they  had  not  elbow-room  for  their  work,  all  their  skill 
would  come  to  nothing. 

We  will  examine  how  they  were  bestead  in  each  of 
these  particulars.  At  this  important  juncture  the 
Chiistiins  were  unarmed,  and  defenceless.  They 
were  forbidden  by  law  to  bear  office ;  and  they  every 
where  submitted  to  the  imperial  decrees.  But  This, 
to  rebuild  the  temple,  was  inforced  by  all  the  power 
and  authority  of  the  empire.  And  the  project  uas 

—In   hoc   partium  ceitamine  repente  antistites  advenisse 
Deum  clamant,  fyc.    Just,  1.  xxiv.  c.  8; 

no 


Chap.  V.]      REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.        197 

no  sooner  on  foot,  than  the  place  was  possessed  and 
crowded  with  vast  numbers  of  Je\vs  and  Gentiles. 
Nor  was  this  all.  The  Christians  were  driven  from 
the  neighbourhood  of  the  holy  place,  hy  their  just 
fears  and  apprehensions.  They  had  every  thing  to 
expect  from  this  impious  combination.  For  their 
enemies  of  both  parties  came  in  crowds  to  share  and 
enjoy  the  approaching  triumph  ;  while  each  strove 
which  should  exceed  the  other  in  violence  and  out 
rage.  Insomuch  that  some,  as  Chrysostome  assures 
us,  absconded,  and  shut  themselves  up  in  /heir  houses  ; 
others  fled  into  deserts  and  solitudes,  and  avoided  all 
places  of  public  resort*.  So  that  \\hatever  the 
priests  of  Apollo  at  Delphi  (who  had  their  town  and 
temple  in  possession,  and  a  good  garrison  to  keep 
off  the  enemy,  till  they  were  ready  for  their  reception) 
might  find  themselves  capable  of  performing  ;  it  is 
plain  the  poor  Christian  Pastors  (their  Flocks  dis 
persed,  and  themselves  absconding),  were  utterly 
deprived  ,of  all  arms  but  those  of  Faith  and  Prayer. 
This,  I  think,  may  stand  for  an  answer  to  that  re 
semblance  between  \\&-  predictions  of  Cyri\  and  the 
priests  of  Apollo,  from  which  the  objection  would 
deduce  such  consequence?  of  suspicion. 

But,  let  us  allow  them  both  will  and  opportunity 
to  do  the  feat:  yet  still,  I  apprehend,  every  likely 
means  would  be  wanting.  Chemical  writers,  indeed, 
in  their  romantic  claims  to  antiquity,  have  boasted 
much  of  the  profound  knowledge  of  the  old  Egyptians 
in  the  Spagiric  Art:  but  this  without  the  least  proof, 
or  warrant  from  history.  The  tirst  authentic  account 
\ve  have  of  artificial  Jire  was  an  invention  or  dis 
covery  of  the  seventh  century.  One  Caliinicus,  an 


xj   T»?    *y«p«f    i'^Evyoi.      Adv.  Jud.  Orat.  V. 

O  3  Egyptian 


198      OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  II. 

Egyptian  of  Heliopolis,  fled  from  the  Saracens  (who 
then  possessed  that  country)  to  Constantinople*; 
and  taught  the  Greeks  a  niilit.iry  mischief,  called  by 
them  vypov  -srvp  [a  liquid  fire],  but  by  the  Franks 
feu  Grtgiois.  It  was  composed,  they  tell  us,  of 
naphtha  and  bitumen;  and  was  bloun  out  of  iron 
and  brass  tubes ;  or  shot  from  a  kind  of  crossbow. 
Wherever  it  fell,  it  stuck,  and  burnt  obstinately ; 
and  was  with  great  difficulty  extinguished.  Some, 
indeed,  say  it  was  accompanied  with  a  sound  like 
thunder.  But  this  is  certain,  the  execution  was  not 
by  the  force  of  the  explosion,  but  by  a  strong  and 
continred  burning.  After  this  we  hear  of  no  other 
artificial  fires  till  the  thirteenth  century  ;  when  our 
famous  countryman,  Roger  Bacon,  invented  that  very 
composition  we  call  Gunpowder.  He  specifies  all 
the  ingredients ;  and  speaks  of  it  as  a  discovery  of 
his  oun.  It  was  not  long  ere  it  was  put  in  practice  : 
For,  in  the  next  century,  Froissart,  and  other  French 
historians,  mention  the  use  of  cannon ;  and,  as  an 
invention  of  their  own  iLues. 

It  is  true,  that  when  the  missionaries  had  opened 
themselves  a  way  into  China,  and  were  enabled  to 
give  us  a  more  perfect  account  of  that  great  empire 
than  we  had  received  from  the  straggling  adventurers, 
who  at  several  times  had  penetrated  thither  before 
them ;  we  are  told,  amongst  the  other  wonders  of 
these  remote  regions,  of  fire- arms,  both  great  and 
small ;  which  had  been  in  use  for  sixteen  hundred 
years ;  nay,  these  missionaries  go  so  tar  as  to  say, 
that  they  themselves  had  seen  cannon  which  had 
been  cast  six  or  eight  centuries  before.  But  there 
are  other,  and  more  early  accounts,  which  shew  we 

*  See  Nicetus,  Theophanes,  Cedrenus,  Couatantiu*  For- 
phyro^enetus. 

are 


Chap.  V.]    REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       199 

are  not  to  depend  entirely  upon  these.  M.  Renaudot 
hdtti  given  the  public  a  translation  of  two  Mahometan 
Voyagers  who  visited  the  south  part  of  China,  in 
the  ninth  century.  These  Arabians  are  curious  in 
describing  every  thing  *'are  and  uncommon,  or  in 
the  least  differing  from  their  own  customs  and  man 
ners  :  And  yet  they  give  us  no  hint  of  their  meeting 
with  this  prodigious  machine;  and  such  must  cannon 
needs  he  deemed  by  men  unacquainted  uith  the  use 
of  gunpowder.  Four  centuries  afterwards,  Marco 
Polo  the  Venetian,  a  curious  and  intelligent  traveller, 
penetrated  into  China  by  the  North :  and  he  too 
is  silent  on  this  head.  In  the  next  century  our 
famous  countryman  Mandeviile  rambled  t  Li  then. 
His  genius  was  towards  natural  knowledge,  having 
studied  and  profess  3d  medicine ;  he  was  skilled  like 
wise  in  most  of  thj  languages  of  the  East  and  West. 
This  man  sojourned  a  considerable  time  in  China: 
he  served  in  their  armies,  and  commanded  in  their 
strong  places :  yet  he  takes  not  the  least  notice  of 
cannon,  which  he  must  have  used,  had  there  been 
any  ;  and  the  use  of  so  interesting  a  novelty  be  would 
hardly  have  omitted  to  describe.  For  he  set  out  on 

%/ 

his  travels  in  the  year  1332  ;  and  Larry  says  that  the 
first  piece  of  cannon,  that  had  been  seen  in  France, 
was  in  1346.  Though  Ducange  *  observes,  that  the 
Registers  of  the  chamber  of  accounts  t  at  Paris  make 
mention  of  gunpowder  so  early  as  the  year  1338. 
And  Froissart  under  the  year  1340  records,  that  the 
town  of  Quesnoy  discharged  their  cannon  against  the 
French  who  made  their  courses  to  the  gates  of  that  city. 

•  In  Glosa.  v.  BOMBARDA- 

•f  One  article  of  which  stands  thus — a  Henri  de  Faumecbon 
pour  avoir  poudres,  &  autres  chosea  necessaires  aux  canons  qui 
etoiem  drvam  Puy-GuUUumit. 

O  4  All 


200      OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  II. 

All  this,  when  laid  together,  seems  to  furnish  out 
a  very  strong  proof  that  the  Chinese  had  never  seen 
cannon  till  alter  this  visit  of  Sir  John  Mandeville  : 
which  agrees  well  with  a  known  fact,  That,  about  two 
centuries  ago,  the  Chinese,  in  their  wars  \\ith  the 
Tartars,  were  forced  to  take  in  the  assistance  of  the 
Europeans  to  manage  their  artillery. 

But  tliis  fable  of  the  ancient  use  of  cannon  in 
China  is  not  to  be  charged  on  the  missionaries,  but 
on  the  Chinese  themselves,  the  proudest  and  vainest 
people  upon  earth ;  arrogating  to  themselves  the  in 
vention  and  improvement  of  every  kind  of  art  and 
science.  They  boasted,  in  the  same  manner;  of  the 
antiquity  and  perfection  of  their  astronomy  and  mathe 
matics.  But  here  their  performances  soon  betrayed 
the  folly  and  impudence  of  their  pretences.  It  was 
not  so  easy  to  detect  them  in  the  subject  in  question. 
The  missionaries,  on  their  arrival,  saw  cannon,  which 
doubtless  had  lain  there  for  two  or  three  ages.  And 
of  these,  the  Chinese  were  at  liberty  to  fable  what  they 
pleased.  But  it  a|  pears  plain  enough,  they  were  in 
debted  for  them  to  their  commerce  with  the  Maho 
metans  (the  only  people  on  the  Western  side  of 
India,  with  whom  they  had  then  any  commerce),, 
some  time  between  the  voyage  of  Mandeville  and  the 
arrival  of  the  missionaries:  very  likely,  soon  after 
their  invention  in  Europe ;  for  Peter  Mexia  speaks  of 
the  Moors  as  having  the  use  of  cannon  about  the  year 
1343.  A  probability  very  much  supported  by  the 
confession  of  the  Chinese  themselves,  in  a  modester 
humour,  That  though  they  had  cannon  from  the  most 
early  times  of  their  empire,  yet,  till  the  Tartar  war, 
spoken  of  above,  they  were  totally  unacquainted  with 
the  management  of  artillery. 

Let  this  suffice,  in  answer  to  this  wild  objection, 

or 


Chap.  VI .]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.        201 

or  suspicion  rather ;  the  wildest  sure  that  ever  infi 
delity  advanced  to  elude  the  force  of  sober  evidence. 
An  objection  not  only  unsupported  by  antiquity,  but 
discredited  by  itself.  Inventions,  which  promote  the 
health  and  happine-s  of  our  species,  have  been  olten, 
indeed,  kept  concealed ;  and  when  at  last  communi 
cated  have  soon  passed  again  into  oblivion,  hut  the 
natural  malignity  of  our  nature  would  never  suti-r  so 
destructive  and  pernicious  an  invention  to  remain 
lonis  a  secret;  or,  when  it  was  once  knovn,  ever  to 
be  disused  or  forgotten.  So  that  if  this  kind  of  arti 
ficial  tire  was  un  early  discovery  of  the  Egyptian 
sas;es,  it  had  a  fortune  which  can  never  be  accounted 
for  on  the  common  principles  of  human  conduct. 


CHAP.   VI. 

THE  last  objection,  which  is  a  little  more  plausible, 
is  to  be  received  with  a  great  deal  more  ceremony 
and  distinction  ;  as  coming  from  the  great  Intimados 
of  NATUKE,  the  secretaries  and  confidents  of  her  in 
trigues.  These  men  tell  us,  "  that  the  fire,  which 
burst  from  the  foundations  of  the  temple,  was  a  mere 
natural  eruption.  The  regions  in  and  about  the  Lesser 
Asia  were  (they  say)  in  ail  ages  subject  to  earthquakes, 
proceeding  from  subterraneous  tires  :  and  the  present 
face  of  the  country  about  Sodom  and  Gomorrah  shews, 
that  the  land  of  Juda»a,  in  Articular,  had  its  entrails 
full  of  these  destructive  principles.  rl  he  fire  Irom  the 
mountain  of  the  tuti/;lc  had,  they  say,  all  the  marks 
of  a  natural  eruption  ;  the  same  circumstances  attend 
ing  it  which  attend  all  natural  eruptions,  and  espe 
cially  that  at  Nicoinedia.  Nor  is  the  time,  in  which  it 

happened, 


202     OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  II. 

happened,  sufficient  to  oppose  to  this  conclusion. 
For  these  commotions  cf  nature  being  frequent  in 
every  age,  it  is  no  wonder  they  should  sometimes 
fall  in  with  those  moral  disorders,  occasioned  by  re 
ligious  contests,  which  are  as  frequent ;  or  that,  at 
such  a  juncture,  frighted  superstition  should  catch  at 
these  accidents  of  terror  to  support  a  labouring  cause. 
Hence  it  was  (say  they)  that  Jupiter  Arnirion  was 
made  to  destroy  the  army  of  Cambyses,  when  sent  to 
burn  his  temple,  and  lay  waste  the  country  of  his 
worshippers;  and  Apollo,  to  fall  upon  the  army  of 
Brennus,  when  he  led  it  to  plunder  the  treasury  at 
Delphi." 

This  is  the  objection :  and  I  have  not  scrupled  my 
help  to  set  it  off.  For,  besides  the  distinction  due  to 
the  character  of  the  objectors,  I  had  other  reasons  why 
I  would  willingly  have  it  seen  in  the  best  light. 

Several  of  the  circumstances  attending  the  event 
in  question,  and  some,  which  have  been  generally  held 
the  most  miraculous,  I  have  myself  delivered  as  the 
effects  of  natural  causes ;  induced  thereto  by  the  love 
of  truth,  and  a  fond  desire  of  reconciling  the  fact  it 
self,  and  the  Christian  Fathers,  who  relate  it,  to  the 
more  favourable  opinion  of  modern  Freethinkers.  It 
will  be  tit,  therefore,  I  should  explain  and  justify  my 
own  conduct  before  I  object  to  that  of  my  adversaries. 

The  agency  of  a  superior  being  on  any  portion  of 
the  visible  creation  lying  within  the  reach  of  our  senses, 
whereby  it  acquires  properties  and  directions  different 
from  what  we  hold  it  capable  of  receiving  from  the 
established  laws  of  matter  and  motion,  we  call  a 
MIRACLE. 

To  ask,  whether  God's  immediate  agency  makes  a 
necessary  part  of  the  definition ;  or  whether,  to  give 
a  miracle  its  name,  it  be  sufficient  that  another  Being, 


Chap.  VI.]      REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.     203 

superior  to  man,  performed  the  operation,  appears  to 
me  a  very  impertinent  inquirv.  Because  then  are  but 
two  sorts  of  men  who  concern  themselves  about  the 
matter ;  Those  who  hold  God's  moral  government ; 
and  Those  who  allow  only  his  natural. 

The  tirst  sort,  the  Religionists,  must  on  their  proper 
principles  allow,  that  a  work  performed  by  superior 
agency,  in  continuation  of  a  doctrine  worthy  of  God, 
and  lemaiuing  uncontrolled  by  a  greater,  can  be  no 
other  than  the  attestation  of  Heaven,  to  which  God 
hath  sei  his  Laud  and  seal.  Because  the  permitting 
an  eril  Being  to  perform  these  wonders,  would  be  de 
ceiving  his  creatures,  who  know  little  or  nothing  of 
the  world  of  spirits.  It  would  be  drawing  them  un 
avoidably  into  an  error,  where  they  would  be  fixed; 
whir,  is  contrary  to  what  the  Religionist  conceives  of 
God's  n-oral  attributes,  and,  consequently,  of  his 
government.  As  to  the  Sectators  of  Naturalism,  the 
specific  qualities  of  a  miracle  never  come  within  the 
range  of  their  inquiries ;  for,  holding  only  the  natural 
government  of  God,  they  deny,  of  course,  the  very 
existence  of  every  thing  that  implies  a  moral  regimen. 

Miracles,  then,  we  may  be  allowed  to  say,  are  of 
two  sorts.  Those  where  the  laws  of  nature  are  sus 
pended  or  reversed  (such  as  the  budding  of  Aaron  s 
rod,  and  the  raising  of  Lazarus  from  the  dead). 
And  those  which  only  give  anew  direction  to  its  Laws 
(such  as  bringing  water  from  the  rock,  and  stopping 
the  issue  of  blood).  For  miracles  being  an  useful,  not 
an  ostentatious  display  of  God's  power,  we  cannot  but 
conclude,  He  would  employ  the  one  or  other  sort  in 
differently,  as  best  served  the  purpose  of  his  interpo 
sition. 

Now,  as  it  would  be  impious  to  bring  in  NATURAL 
CAUSES  to  explain  ihejirst  sort;  so,  totally  to  exclude 

those 


204  OF  JULIAN'S  ATT ;r--PT  TO  [Book  II. 
those  causes  in  the  litter,  would  he  superstitious',  arid 
both,  infinite]  ytftoni  \V  ho,  icr  instance,  would  venture 
to  affirm  thai  the  prolific  virtue  in  the  stock  of  Aa,cns 
rod  contributed  to  the  blossoming  of  its  branch?  Or, 
on  the  other  hand,  that  the  water  which  came  from 
the  reck  at  the  command  of  Moses,  was  just  then 
created  to  do  honour  to  his  ministry?  In  this  last  case, 
what  more  would  a  rational  J  eiiever  conclude,  than 
that  GOD,  by  making,  at  the  instant,  a  fissure  in  the 
rock,  gave  room  for  the  water  to  burst  out,  which  had 
been  before  lodged  there  by  nature,  as  in  its  proper 
reservoir?  And  the  sober  Critic,  who  proceeds  in  this 
manner,  does  no  more  than  follow  that  method  of 
interpreting*  which  God  himself  useth  in  working  the 
miracle;  which  is,  to  give  to  Nature  all  that  Nature 
could  easily  perform. 

We  are  further  encouraged  in  thus  explaining  the 
mode  of  God's  interposition,  by  one  of  the  most 
awful  exertions  of  Divine  Power,  recorded  in  Holy 
Writ.  But,  previous  to  the  story,  the  Reader  should 
be  reminded  of  what  hath  been  observed  of  the  order 
of  the  appearances  both  in  the  natural  eruption  at 
Nicomedia,  and  in  that,  we  call,  miraculous,  at  Je 
rusalem  ;  where,  in  each  case,  the  desolation  began 
with  winds  and  tempest;  was  continued  by  an  earth 
quake  ;  and  concluded  in  &  fiery  eruption.  The  story 
is  this  :  The  Prophet  Elijah,  oppressed  with  the 
corruptions  of  the  house  of  Israel,  is  commanded  to 
wait  God's  presence,  and  attend  his  word.  u  And 
"  he  said,  Go  forth,  and  stand  upon  the  mount  be- 
"  fore  the  Lord.  And  behold  the  Lord  passed  by, 
"  and  a  great  and  strong  WIND  rent  the  mountains, 
"  and  brake  in  pieces  the  rocks  before  the  Lord  ; 
"  but  the  Lord  was  not  in  the  wind  :  and  after  the 
"  wind  an  EARTHQUAKE;  but  the  Lord  was  not  in 

"  the 


Chap.  VI.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       205 

"  the  earthquake:  and  after  the  earthquake  a  FIRE; 
"  but  the  Lord  was  not  in  the  fire:  and  alter  the  hre 
"  a  SMALL  STILL  voi-  His  cou  ing  to  shake 

terribly  the  earth  is  here,  we  see,  described,  in  all 
t!:e  pom;)  of  incensed  Majesty.  Yet  it  is  rcmaikable, 
that  the  prcc-.irsors  of  his  presence  follow  each  other 
in  the  same  order  of  physical  progression,  in  which 
nature  ranged  tirj  several  phenomena  at  Nicomedia 
and  Jerusalem ;  the  tempests,  the  earthquake,  and  the 
Jirc:  an  order,  the  sacred  Historian  plainly  points 
out  to  us,  where  he  says,  that  God  was  not  in  any  of 
these;  intimating,  that  they  were  pure  plnsicul  up- 
pearances,  the  parade  of  nature,  thus  far  suffered  to 
do  its  office  without  stop  or  impediment :  but  th.it  ffe 
was  in  the  small  still  voice.,  which  closed  this  dreadful 
procession  ;  intimating,  that  these  natural  appearances 
were  »/•'.  /  to  the  interposition  of  the  Author  and 

Lord  of  Nature. 

Let  us  apply  all  this  to  our  argument;  and  consider, 
how  a  sober  believer,  convinced  by  the  force  of  evi 
dence,  would  interpret  the  miracle  in  question.  He 
would,  without  doubt,  conclude,  t'mt  the  mineral  aud 
metallic  substances  (which,  by  their  accidental  fer 
mentation,  are  wont  to  take  fire  and  bur^t  out  in 
flames)  were  the  native  cont,  the  place  from 

which  they  issued;   but  thdt,  in  all  likelihood,   they 
would   there   hive   slept,    and   still    continued  in  the 
quiet  innoxious  state  \\  \vhi;!i   they  had  so   IO.VT  re 
mained,  had  not  the  brcaih  of  the  Lcrd  awoke  and 
kindled  them. 

Lut  when  the  Divine  Power  hud  thus  miraculously 
interposed  to  stir  up  the  r^iro  of  these  fiery  elements, 
and  yet  to  restrain  thi:ir  furv  to  t'ie  objects  of  his 
vengeance,  he  then  again  suifcred  Uicrn  to  do  their 

*   i  Kiu&sxi*.  ii,  12, 

ordinary 


206     OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  II. 

ordinary  office :  because  Nature  thus  directed  would, 
by  the  exertion  of  its  own  laws,  answer  all  the  ends 
of  the  moral  designation. 

The  consequence  of  which  would  be,  that  its  effects, 
whether  destructive  or  only  terrific,  would  be  the 
same  with  those  attending  mere  natural  eruptions. 

So  far,  indeed,  one  cannot  but  suspect,  That  the 
specific  qualities  in  the  fermented  elements,  which  oc 
casioned  the  frightful  appearances,  though  they  were 
natural  to  enflamed  matter  under  certain  circum 
stances,  were  yet,  by  the  peculiar  pleasure  of  Provi 
dence,  green  on  this  occasion ;  and  not  left  merely 
to  the  conjunction  of  mechanic  causes,  or  the  fortuitous 
concourse  of  matter  and  motion,  to  produce.  And 
my  reason  is,  because  these  frightful  appearances, 
namely  the  cross  in  the  heavens,  and  on  the  garments* 
were  admirably  fitted,  as  MORAL  EMBLEMS,  to  pro 
claim  the  triumph  of  CHRIST  over  Julian.  For  the 
apostate  having,  in  a  public  and  contemptuous  manner, 
taken  the  monogramme  and  cross  out  of  the  military 
ensigns  *,  which  Constantine  had  put  there,  in  memory 
of  the  aerial  vision  that  presaged  his  victories ;  the 
same  kind  of  triumphant  cross  was  again  erected  in 
the  heavens,  to  confound  the  vanity  of  that  impotent 
bravade  :  and  having  forbidden  the  followers  of  Jesus, 
by  public  edict,  to  use  the  very  name  of  Christians ; 
a  stigmatic  cross  was  now  imprinted  upon  the  gar 
ments  of  those  who  were  seconding  his  impieties,  or 
were  witnesses  to  the  defeat  of  his  attempt. 

And,  in  these  shining  marks  of  vengeance,  there 
was  nothing  low,  fantastical,  or  superstitious.  The 
impress  was  great  and  solemn,  and  corresponded  to 
the  dignity  of  the  occasion. 

Another  use  of  these  terrific  appearances  (now  first 

*  Greg.  Naz.  Or,  iii,— Soiom.  1,  v,  c.  17. 

beginning 


Chap.  VI.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       207 

beginning  to  manifest  itself,  as  in  many  other  circum 
stances  of  religious  dispensation,  produced  in  one  age 
for  the  service  of  another,  most  remote)  will  further 
confirm  our  opinion  of  thcirjwal  cause.  The  use,  I 
mean,  is  their  supporting  the  testimony  of  \\\e fathers. 
The  crosses  on  the  garments,  to  the  men  of  that  time, 
not  apprized  of  their  being  meteoric  marks,  must  ap 
pear  a  very  incredulous  circumstance:  on  \\hich  too, 
(whatever  the  nature  of  the  crosses  was),  the  evidence 
of  the  divine  interposition  was  seen  not  to  depend. 
Yet  ti\G  fathers,  with  the  utmost  confidence,  and  most 
perfect  agreement,  relate  this  circumstance  at  large ; 
dwell  more  upon  it,  and  glory  more  in  it,  than  on 
all  the  rest.  Hence  I  infer,  thajt  nothing  but  the  no 
toriety  of  the  fact  induced  them  to  load  the  miracle 
with  a  circumstance,  which,  they  could  not  but  see, 
was  so  far  from  adding  credit  to  the  evidence,  that 
it  would  render  the  whole  transaction  suspicious. 

Thus  much  concerning  these  tico  s&rts  of  miracles, 
and  the  different  manner  of  treating  them.  But  it  is 
to  be  observed,  There  is  yet  a  third,  compounded  of 
the  other  two,  where  the  laws  of  nature  are  in  part 
arrested  and  suspended',  and,  in  part  only,  differently 
directed.  Of  this  kind  was  the  punishment  of  the  old 
world  by  a  deluge  of  waters.  Now,  if,  to  such  as 
these,  we  should  apply  the  way  of  interpretation  proper 
to  the  second  sort,  Where  only  a  new  direction  is  given 
to  the  laws  of  nature;  the  absurdities,  arising  from 
this  abusive  application,  would  go  near  to  disgrace  the 
method  itself:  as  That  Divine  hath  helped  to  shew 
us,  who  ingeniously  contrived  to  bring  on  the  deluge 
of  waters  by  the  aid  of  an  approaching  comet,  but 
was  never  after,  by  any  physical  address,  able  to  draw 
it  off  again.  And  such  disgraces  are  hardly  to  be 
avoided:  for,  in  the  second  and  simpler  kind,  the 

physical 


208     OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  II. 

physical  interpretation  hath  experience  to  support  it: 
whereas  in  the  third  and  more  complicated,  the  artist 
must  be  content  with  an  hypothesis. 

This  was  proper  to  be  said  before  we  came  to  try 
the  force  of  the  objection. 

i.  It  begins  \\\\\  observing,  "  That  the  regions  in 
and  about  the  Lesser  Asia  were,  in  all  ages,  subject 
to  earthquakes,  caused  by  subterraneous  fires;  and 
that  Judaea  in  particular  had  its  entrails  full  of  these 
destructive  principles ;  as  appears  even  from  the  pre 
sent  face  of  the  country  about  Sodom  and  Gomorrah." 

If  this  account  be  true,  as  I  believe  it  is,  then 
Judasa  was  a  proper  theatre  (as  occasion  required) 
for  this  specific  display  of  the  divine  vengeance.  And 
we  see  whyjire  was  the  scourge  employed  :  as  water 
doubtless  would  have  been,  were  the  region  of  Judaea 
naturally  subject  to  inundations.  For  miracles  not 
being  an  ostentatious  but  a  necessary  instrument  of 
God's  moral  government,  we  cannot  conceive  it  pro 
bable  that  he  would  create  the  eK  merits  for  this  pur 
pose;  but  me  tho^e  which  lay  ready  stored  up  against 
the  day  cf  visitation.  By  this  means,  his  wisdom 
would  appear  as  conspicuous  as  his  power*  when  it 
should  be  seen,  that  the  provisions  laid  in,  at  the 
formation  of  the  world,  for  the  use  and  solace  of  his 
creatures  while  they  continued  in  obedience,  could,  at 
his  word,  be  turned  into  scourges  when  they  became 
faithless  and  rebellious.  The  force  of  this  reasoning 
is  so  obvious,  that,  had  Providence  been  pleased  to 
use  the  contrary  method,  unbelievers,  I  am  persuaded, 
would  have  made  that  very  method  an  objection  to 
the  credibility  of  the  fact.  However,  though  it  seemeth 
most  agreeable  to  what  we  conceive  of  divine  wisdom, 
that  it  should  often  use  the  instrumentality  of  nature 

in 


Chap.  VI.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.        209 

in  its  miraculous  interpositions,  vet,  let  it  be  observed, 
the  same  wisdom  always  provides,  that  the  Aatlwr  of 
Nature  be  not  lost  or  obscured  under  the  glare  and 
noise  of  his  instruments. 

It  is  said,  the  region  of  Judea  was,  fr<*m  the  quality 
of  its  contents,  much  subject  to  earthquakes  and  fiery 
eruptions.  If  so,  ho\v  happened  it,  that,  from  the 
most  early  times  to  the  period  in  question,  there  never 
was  any  unusual  disorder  in  its  entrails  (if  you  except 
an  earthquake,  which  Joscphus  mentions  as  happening 
in  the  time,  of  Herod)  but  at  the  overthrow  of  Sodom 
and  Gomorrah;  at  the  destruction  of  Korah  and  his 
company  ;  in  the  days  of  Uzziah  *  ;  at  the  Cruciiixion  ; 
and  on  this  attempt  of  Julian?  How  happened  it,  that 
this  destructive  element  lay  quiet  in  the  midst  of  so 
much  fuel,  and  for  so  many  ages ;  and  only  then,  and 
at  those  critical  junctures,  shewed  itself,  when  God 
had  a  contest  with  his  enemies?  Can  any  reasonable 
account  be  given  of  such  a  disposition  but  this,  that, 
whenever  God  decrees  to  punish,  it  is  his  purpose  the 
divine  agency  should  be  fully  manifested?  To  pretend, 
they  were  all  natural  events,  and  the  several  coinci 
dences  merely  casual,  is  supposing  somqthing  vastly 
more  incredible  than  what  unbelievers  would  persuade 
us  is  implied  in  the  notion  of  a  mirads. 

2.  But  it  is  said,  "  This  eruption  from  the  foun- 
dations  of  the  temple  had  all  the  marks  of  a  natural 
event,  l>ein£  attended  with  the  same  circumstances 
which,  Anim.  Marcellinus  tells  us,  accompanied  the 
earthquake  at  Nieomedia." 

It  is  very  certain,  the  eruption  from  the  foundations 
of  the  temple  had  all  these  marks ;  and  if  our  expla 
nation  of  the  miracle,  as  it  seems  the  most  ratiotittl, 
be  indeed  the  true,  it  could  not  but  have  them. 

*  See  Amos  i.  i.   and  Zech.  jtlv.  5. 

VOL.  VIII.  P  Whee 


2io      OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  II. 

When  God  had  kindled  the  fiery  matter  in  this  store 
house  of  his  wrath,  all  the  effects  that  succeeded,  must, 
needs  be  the  same  with  those  which  attend  the  ex 
plosion  of  any  other  subterraneous  fire.     What  would 
follow,  had  they  not  been  the  same,  but  rejection  of 
the  whole  story?  which,  in  times  so  squeamish  as  ours, 
and  so  difficult  of  credit,  would  have  passed  for  a 
fairy-tale.     This  consideration  induced  me  to  shew, 
at  large,  the  exact  conformity,  throughout  the  process 
of  the  event,  between  the  visitation  at  Jerusalem  and 
the  disaster  at  Nicomedia.     Not  but  I  foresaw  the 
consequence.     It  is  the  least  of  an  unbeliever's  care 
to  reconcile  his  objections  to  one  another.    I  knew  his 
first  davil  to  the  credit  of  the  fact  would  be  the  won 
derful  attending  the  eruption.     I  therefore  provided 
against  it,  by  shewing  this  fact  to  be  similar  in  its  main 
circumstances  to  tiie  best  attested  relations  of  natural 
events.     But  I  knew  too,  that,   in  case  of  a  defeat 
here,  he  would  not  be  ashamed  to  point  his  cavil  the 
other  way,  and  turn  this  very  resemblance  to  an  argu 
ment  against  a  supernatural  interposition.- — What  pit} 
is  it  that  Ammianus,  who  best  knew  the  full  extent  of 
this  resemblance,  was  not  more  quick-sighted  1    lie  too 
was  an  enemy  of  the  Christian  name  (indeed,  to  do 
him  justice,  more  fair  and  candid  than  any  I  know  of 
the  same  denomination  amongst  ourselves),  but  so 
little  sensible  of  its  force,   and  so  much  confounded 
with  the  event,  That,  instead  of  telling  the  affair  at 
large,  which  fell  in  so  exactly  with  his  detailed  account 
of  the  disaster  at  Nicomedia,  he  hurries  it  over  with 
the  rapidity  of  one  of  the  frightened  workmen,  who 
had  just  escaped  the  common  desolation. 

After  all,  a  general  resemblance  in  the  effects,  is 
allowed.  What  we  insist  on  is,  the  difference  in  their 
C.MSC  or  original.  And  this  difference  is  supposed 

even 


Chap.  VI.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       211 

even  by  the  very  nature  of  things  from  whence  that 
general  resemblance  arose. 

Nicomedia,  a  city  of  Bithynia,  was  placed  on  an 
eminence,  at  the  bottom  of  a  Gulph  of  that  name,  in 
the  Propontis.  Now  mountains  thus  situated,  into 
whose  cavernous  entrails  the  sea  may  find  its  way, 
must,  if  other  natural  causes  favour,  be,  sometimes, 
subject  to  fiery  eruptions ;  of  which  we  need  no  other 
example  than  the  mountain  Vesuvius.  But  the  temple- 
hill  at  Jerusalem  was  neither  large  nor  cavernous ;  nor 
was  it  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  sea :  circumstances, 
which,  all  the  world  over,  are  wont  to  produce  this 
effect.  Neither  were  any  new  openings  made,  at  this 
time,  into  the  bowels  of  the  mountain;  which,  by 
letting  in  air  or  water,  might  be  supposed  to  ferment 
and  inflame  their  combustible  contents.  The  historians 
who  relate  this  attempt  inform  us,  that  even  some 
parts  of  the  old  foundations  were  left  standing  to  erect 
the  new  edifice  upon ;  and  in  others,  where  the  old 
works  were  little  better  than  a  heap  of  rubbish,  or  at 
least  judged  too  infirm,  that  incumbrance  only  was 
removed.  This  appears  from  the  relations  of  Socrates 
and  Sozomene  compared  with  one  another.  Socrates 
assures  us  *,  that  the  earthquake  threw  out  stones  from 
the  old  foundations :  which  he  mentions  to  shew  the 
literal  accomplishment  of  the  prophecy  of  Jesus,  that 
there  should  not  be  left  one  stone  upon  another.  Sozo- 
mene  indeed  affirms  f,  that  the  foundations  were 
cleared ;  but  then  he  goes  on  and  says,  the  earth 
quake  threw  out  stones.  Now,  as  no  new  foundations 
were  ever  laid,  he  must  mean  with  Socrates,  the  stones 
of  the  old.  And  thus  the  seeming  difference  in  their 
accounts  will  be  reconciled.  Let  me  add,  that  more 
than  once  before,  and  at  distant  times,  they  had  dug 
*  L.  iii.  c.  10.  f  L.  v.  c.  12. 

p  2  deep 


2 1  -j     OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  II. 

deep  into  this  hill,  to  lay  the  foundations  of  Solomon's 
and  Herod's  temples:  and  then  every  thing  continued 
quiet.  Yet,  now,  when  no  new  openings  were  made, 
the  effort  to  build  a  third  was  followed  by  a  fiery 
eruption. 

Again,  in  natural  ferments-  of  this  kind,  the  commo 
tion  is  generally  very  extensive,  and  runs  through  large 
tracts  of  country.     Thus  the  earthquake  mentioned  by 
Josephus  shook  the  whole  land  of  Judaea;  and  the 
disaster  at  Nicomedia,  as  Marcellinus  informs  us,  was 
occasioned  by  a  tremor  which  went  over  Macedonia, 
Asia,  and  Pontus ;  and  did  infinite  mischief  throughout 
its  course*.     The  same  historian  tells  us  of  another 
which  shook  the  whole  globe   of  the   earth  -)* ;   and 
described  by  Jeroin  J  in  these  words,  <f  Ea  tempestate 
"  terrse  motu  totius  orbis  qui  post  Juliani  mortem  ac- 
"  cidit  maria  egressa  sunt  tcrminos  suos,"  &c.     On 
the  contrary,   the  eruption  at  Jerusalem  was  confined 
to  the  very  spot  on  which  the  temple  had  stood  ;  and 
continued  only  to  deny  access  to-  such  who,  not  taking 
warning  by  those  whom  it  had  destroyed,  would  still 
persevere  in  their  impiety  §.      A  circumstance  very 
different  from  common  earthquakes  and  fiery  erup 
tions  ;  and  of  which  we  have  no  examples,  save  in  the 
eruption  that  destroyed  Korah  and  his  company ;  and 
in  the  earthquake  at  the  Crucifixion  of  our  Lord  ;  and 
perhaps  in  that  in  the  days  of  Uzziah;  all  of  them 
supernatural  events. 

Thirdly,  in  natural  eruptions  the  fire  continues  burn- 

*  lisdem  diebus  terraemotus  horrendi  per  Macedonian!,  Asiam- 
que,  &  Pontum  adsiduis  pulsibus  oppida  multa  concusserunt  & 
montes.  Inter  monumenta  tamen  multitbrmium  acrumnarum  emi- 
nuere  Nicomediae  clades,  &c.  Marcell.  1.  xvii.  c.  7. 

f  L.  xxvi.  c.  10.  I  Vit.  Hilar. 

§  —  fecere  locum  exustis  aliquoties  optrantibus  inacccssum. 
L.  xxiii.  c.  i. 

ing 


Chap.  VI.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       213 

ins;  till  the  fuel  which  supplies  it  be  consumed,  liut 
the  witnesses  to  this  assign  a  very  different  period  to 
its  fury.  It  continued  just  as  long  as  the  builders  per 
sisted  in  their  attempt,  and  no  longer.  At  every  new 
effort  to  proceed,  the  rising  fire  drove  them  back  ;  but 
at  the  instant  they  gave  out,  it  totally  subsided.  This 
so  terrified  Julian,  that  Chrysostome  tells  us*,  he 
relinquished  the  enterprize  for  fear  the  fire  should  turn 
upon  his  own  head.  And  this  made  Marcellinus  say,  — 
"  elemento  DESTINATIUS  repellente"  —  an  expression 
of  great  elegance,  to  imply  the  direction  of  an  intelli 
gent  agent. 

3.  In  the  last  place  we  are  told,  "  That  even  so 
critical  a  juncture  is  not  to  be  accounted  of:  for 
that  religious  squabbles  and  natural  prodigies  are 
equally  common;  and  church-artists  never  wanting 
to  fit  them  to  one  another.  Hence,  they  say,  are 
derived  those  two  notable  judgments  of  Jupiter- 
Ainmon  and  Apollo,  upon  the  armies  of  Cambyses 
and  Brennus." 

The  observation  is  plausible.  It  pleases  the  ima 
gination  :  and  wants  nothing  but  truth  to  reconcile  it 
to  the  judgment. 

In  miracles  performed  by  tlie  ministry  of  God's 
messengers,  where  the  laws  of  nature  are  suspended 
or  reversed,  it  is  sufficient  if  he  who  works  them 
shall,  at  any  time,  declare  their  purpose  and  in 
tention.  But,  in  a  miracle  performed  by  the  im 
mediate  potver  of  God,  without  the  intervention  of 
his  servants,  in  which  only  a  new  direction  is  given 
to  the  laws  of  nature,  one  of  these  two  conditions  is 


raturat, 

»j>    0-7Tb^j»    ixMMjjr,    JWa$  /*»»   tfft^cttripu   w^oiXQw*,  ITT*  T*}*  raJIS 

aXtVij  TO   WVP,  **r«'r»)  nr^fi^K  /*iU  TW  iv0>*$  -ara/J6$.     Adver. 

Orat.  ij. 

p  3  required 


214    OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book.  II. 

required  to  give  it   credit :    either  that   an  inspired 
servant  of  God  predicted  it,  and  declared  its  purpose 
beforehand,  as  Samuel  did  the  storm  of  thunder  and 
raht,  the  declaration   of  God's  displeasure,    for  the 
people's  demand  of  a  king :  or  that  it  be  seen  to 
interpose    so   seasonably   and    critically   as   to  cover 
and  secure  God's  moral  government  from  inevitable 
dishonour,   as  in  the  case  before  us.     Without  one 
or  other  of  these  conditions,  superstition  would  break 
loose   at   once,    and    soon   over- run  the  world :   for 
bigotry  (always  in  close  conjunction  with  our  natural 
malignity)  would  convert  every  unusual   appearance 
of  natural  evil   into   a  prodigy,  and  a  punishment : 
but  why  do  I  say  it  would?     It  hath  in  fact  done  so  ; 
and   every   age    and    religion   hath    abounded    with 
tbese   spurious  judgments,   by  which  human  charity 
and   God's  moral  government  hath  been  incessantly 
violated  and  dishonoured.     And  yet  an  ordinary  at 
tention  to  the  obvious  and  rational  conditions,  here 
pointed    out,    would    have   prevented   this  mischief: 
for  I  know  but  of  one  instance  in  all  antiquity  which 
could  embarrass  the   decision  :  and  that  is, — not  the 
expedition  of  Cambyscs ;  for  it  would  have  been  a 
greater  wonder  that  an  army  should  get  safe  through 
the  sands  of  those  deserts,  than  that  it  perished  in 
them.     The  case  I  mean  is  the  destruction  of  Bren-* 
nus's   army   before    Delphi.      Here,    neither  of  the 
conditions  seemed  wanting.     The  priests  of  Apollo, 
we  are  told,  predicted  the  approaching  desolation  : 
and  the  cause  (which  was  the  punishment  of  impiety 
and  irreligion)  appeared  not  altogether  unworthy  the 
divine  interposition.     These,  together  with  the  faith 
due  to  the  best  human  testimony,  which  strangely 
concurred  to  support  the  fact,   were,  I  presume,  the 
reasons  that  inclined  the  excellent  Dean  Prideaux 

to 


Chap.  VI.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       215 

to  esteem  the  accident  miraculous  ;  not  so  weakly  as 
hath  been  represented  by  some ;  nor  yet  with  that 
maturity  of  judgment,  which  one  would  expect  from 
so  great  a  master  of  ancient  history.  His  words 
are  these — "  Brennus  marched  on  with  the  gross 
"  of  his  army  towards  Delphos,  to  plunder  the  tern- 
"  pie — But  he  there  met  a  wonderful  defeat.  For  on 
"  his  approaching  the  place,  there  happened  a  ter- 
"  rible  storm  of  thunder,  lightning,  and  hail,  which 
"  destroyed  great  numbers  of  his  men,  and,  at  the 
"  same  time,  there  was  as  terrible  an  earthquake, 
"  which  rending  the  mountains  in  pieces,  threw  down 
"  whole  rocks  upon  them,  which  overwhelmed  them 
"  by  hundreds  at  a  time. — Thus  was  God  pleased, 
"  in  a  very  extraordinary  manner,  to  execute  his 
u  vengeance  upon  those  sacrilegious  wretches  for 
"  the  sake  of  religion  in  general,  how  false  and 
•"  idolatrous  soever  that  religion  was,  for  which  that 
"  temple  at  Delphos  was  erected  *."  The  learned 
historian,  we  see,  takes  it  for  granted,  and  he  is  not 
mistaken,  that  Brennus  and  his  Gauls  acknowledged 
the  divinity  of  Apollo.  Julius  Cassar  informs  us, 
that  the  Gauls  had  very  near  the- same  sentiments  of 
the  greater  deities  (as  they  were  called)  with  the 
Greeks  and  Romans  f ,  and  the  rest  of  the  politer 
Pagan  nations.  And,  distinct  from  his  authority,  we 
know,  that  their  principle  of  intercommunity  made 
their  national  Gods  free  of  all  countries,  Brennus, 
therefore,  was  a  sacrilege  in  form.  But  notwith 
standing  this,  there  are  many  strong  objections  to 
the  Dean's  notion  concerning  the  quality  of  the 
-disaster. 

*  Connect.  Vol.  ii.   p.  «o,  21.  Fol.  ed. 

t  — Post  hunc  [Mercurium]  Apollinem,  Martem  &  Jovem 
£  Minervam.  De  his  eandem  fere,  quam  reliquae  gentes,  habeat 
opinionem.  De  Bell,  Gall.  1.  vi. 

p  4  This 


•;i6     OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  II. 

This  sacred  place,  the  repository  of  immense 
riches,  had,  at  other  times,  been  attempted  \vitli  im 
punity,  nay  with  success ;  for  it  had  been  so  often 
plundered,  that,  when  Strabo  wrote,  the  temple  was 
become  exceeding  poor  *.  And  if,  amongst  these 
several  insults,  there  were  any  more  worthy  the  divine 
interposition,  for  the  sake  of  religion  in  general,  than 
the  rest,  it  was  when  the  Phocenscs,  the  natural  and 
civil  protectors  of  the  temple,  plundered  it  of  all  its 
wealth,  to  raise  an  army  of  mercenary  soldiers.  And 
yet,  at  that  time,  the  offended  deity  gave  no  marks  of 
his  displeasure.  No\v  to  suppose,  when  several  at 
tempts  of  this  kind  had  succeeded,  that  the  failure 
of  one,  though  attended  with  some  uncommon  circum 
stances,  was  a  divine  interposition,  is  going  very  far  in 
favour  of  an  hypothesis*  If  it  should  be  said,  that 
the  God  of  Israel  suffered  his  own  temple  to  be  several 
times  profaned  (which  Julian  himself  takes  care  to 
remember  *f)  and  yet  at  last  vindicated  the  glory  of 
his  name;  I  reply,  there  was  this  essential  difference 
in  the  case,  that  whenever  the  temple  of  the  Jews  was 
violated,  the  evil  was  foretold  as  due  to  their  crimes, 
and  the  people  made  acquainted  with  the  impending 
punishment :  and  that  now,  when  its  sanctity  was  in 
sulted  by  a  Gentile's  attempt  to  restore  its  honours,  it 
was  in  defiance  of  a  prophecy  which  had  doomed  it 
to  a  final  desolation. 

There  is  yet  a  stronger  objection  to  the  learned 
Dean's  solution ;  which  is,  that,  had  the  defeat  been 
miraculous,  the  interposition  would  have  lost  its  end. 
For  it  could  never  have  been  deemed  as  effectuated  to 
vindicate  religion  in  general-,  but  as  done  for  the  sake 
of  their  false  Gods  onli/  ;  the  story  informing  us,  that 

*  vv»i  yi  roi   wmraloy  sr»    TO  iv   AeVflcIV    ^'^v.      Lib.  XI. 

i  See  pp.  78;  79. 

the 


Chap.  VI.]    REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.        217 

the  priests  of  the  temple  denounced  the  coming  ven 
geance  ;  and  ascribed  it  to  the  wrath  and  power  of 
Apollo  *  and  his  two  sisters.  So  that  this  intervention 
would  have  been  the  means  of  fixing  idolatry,  and 
rivetting  down  polytheism  upon  the  Gentile  world. 

But  what  is  still  more,  the  circumstances  of  the 
times  did  not  at  all  favour  a  miracle  for  the  purpose 
assigned,  namely,  for  the  sake  of  religion  in  general, 
against  impiety.  Hie  popular  folly,  in  the  Pagan 
world,  ran  all  the  other  way.  It  was  not  ir  religion, 
but  superstition,  that  then  infected  mankind.  They 
had  no  need  of  a  real  miracle  to  remind  them  of  the 
superintendency  of  Providence ;  they  were  but  too  apt 
to  ascribe  every  unusual  appearance  of  nature  to  moral 
agency.  So  that,  had  Heaven  now  thought  fit  to 
interfere ;  we  cannot  but  conclude,  it  had  been  rather 
in  discredit  of  idolatry  in  particular,  than  in  behalf 
of  religion  in  general. — There  is  hardly  any  need  to 
observe,  that  the  reasons,  which  make  against  God's 
own  intervention,  bold  equally  against  his  permitting 
evil  spirits  to  co-operate  with  the  delusions  of  their 
priests* 

Having,  therefore,  excluded  all  superior  agency  from 
this  affair ;  it  will  be  incumbent  on  us  to  shew,  by 
what  human  contrivance  it  might  have  been  effected. 
For  it  must  be  owned,  its  arrival  at  so  critical  a 
juncture  will  not  easily  suffer  us  to  suppose  it  a  mere 
natural  event. 

*  In  hoc  partium  certamine  repent^  uiuversorum  templorum 
antistites,  simul  &  ipsae  vates,  sparsis  crinibus,  cum  insignibus 
atque  infulis,  pavidi  vecordesque  in  primam  pugnantium  aciem 
procurrunt:  advenisse  DEUM  clamant;  eurnque  se  vidisse  disili- 
entem  in  templum — Juvenem  supra  humanum  modum  insignis 
pulchritudinis,  comitesque  ei  duas  armatas  virgines  ex  propinquis 
duabus  Dianas  Minerv&que  aidibus  occurrisse :  nee  oculis  tan  turn 
haec  se  perspexisse ;  audisse  etiam  stridorem  arcus  ac  strepituui 
arrnorum. — Just,  lib,  xxiv.  c.  8. 

The 


0V  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  II. 

The  inclination  of  a  Pagan  Priest  to  assist  his  God 
in  extremity  will  hardly  be  called  in  question.  We 
#ee,  by  the  round  story  of  those  at  Delphi,  that  they 
were  not  embarrassed  by  vulgar  scruples.  They  told 
their  townsmen,  they  saw  the  God,  at  his  first  alight 
ing,  in  the  person  of  a  young  man  of  exquisite  beauty, 
ami  his  two  virgin  associates,  Diana  and  Minerva, 
tvkh  each  her  proper  arms  of  bow  and  spear :  But 
they  did  not  expect  the  people  should  trust  to  their 
fye-sight -only ;  they  assured  them,  they  heard,  besides, 
tiie  clan*?  of  their  arms. 

So  much  for  a  good  disposition  :  which  was  not  ill 
sceomled  by  their  public  management  and  address. 
On  the  first  rumour  of  Brennus's  march  against  them, 
they  issued  out  orders  as  from  the  oracle,  to  all  the 
region  round,  forbidding  the  country  people  to  secrete 
or  bear  away  their  wine  and  provisions.  The  effects 
of  this  order  succeeded  to  their  expectation.  The 
fialf- starved  Barbarians  finding,  on  their  arrival  in 
Phocis,  so  great  a  plenty  of  all  things,  made  short 
marches,  dispersed  themselves  over  the  country,  and 
revelled  in  the  abundance  that  was  provided  for  them. 
This  respite  gave  time  to  the  friends  and  allies  of  the 
God  to  come  to  his  assistance:  so  that  by  such  time 
as  Brennus  was  sat  down  at  the  foot  of  the  rock5, 
there  was  a  numerous  garrison  within  to  dispute  his 
ascent  *. 

Their  advantages  of  situation  likewise  supported  the 

*  Gallorum  vulgus,  ex  longa  inopia,  ubi  primum  vino  cacte- 
vi.»q«e  commeatibus  referta  rura  invenit,  non  minus  abundantly, 
quam  victoria  Upturn,  per  agros  se  sparserat;  desertisque  signis, 
ad  occupanda  omnia  pro  victoribus  vagabantur.  Qua?  res  dila- 
tionem  Delphis  dedit.  Privna  namque  opinione  adventus  Gallorum 
prohibit!  agrestes  oraulis  feruntur  meases,  vinaque  villis  efferre. — • 
Salutare  prajceptum — velut  mora  Gallis  objecta.  auxilia  finitimo- 
ruin  convene  re.  Justin,  lib.  xxiv.  c.  7. 

measures 


Chap.  VI.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       219 

measures  they  had  taken  for  a  vigorous  defence.  The 
tou  n  and  temple  of  Delphi  were  seated  on  a  bare  and 
cavernous  rock  ;  defended,  on  all  sules,  with  precipices, 
instead  of  walls.  The  large  recess  within  assumed  the 
form  of  a  theatre  :  so  that  the  shouts  of  soldiers,  &nd 
the  sounds  of  military  instruments,  re-echoing  from 
rock  to  rock,  and  from  cavern  to  cavern,  increased 
the  clamour  to  an  immense  degree.  Which,  as  the 
historian  observes,  could  not  bat  have  great  effects  on 
ignorant  and  barbarous  minds*. 

The  playing  off  these  punic  terrors  was  not  indeed 
sufficient  of  itself  to  repel  and  dissipate  a  host  of  fierce 
and  hung;  v  invaders  ;  but  it  enabled  the  defenders  of 
the  place  to  keep  them  at  bay,  till  a  more  solid  enter 
tainment  was  provided  for  them.  I  mean  the  explosion, 
and  fall  of  that  portion  of  the  rock,  at  the  foot  of  which 
the  greater  part  of  tiie  army  lay  encamped. 

For,  the  town  and  temple,  as  we  observed,  were 
seated  on  a  bare  and  hollow  rock  ;  which  would  here 
and  there  afford  vent-holes  for  such  fumes  as  generated 
within  to  transpire.  One  of  these,  from  an  intoxicating 
quality,  discovered  in  the  strain  which  issued  at  it,  was 
rendered  very  famous,  by  being  fitted  to  the  recipient 
of  the  priestess  of  Apollo  f  .  Now  if  we  only  suppose 

this, 

*  Templum  &  Civiutem  non  muri,  seel  pnecipitia;  non  manu 
facta,  sed  naiuralia  praesidia  defendant  ;  prorsus  ut  incertum  sit, 
utrum  mimimentum  loci,  an  ni.ijostas  Dei  plus  hie  admirationis 
habeat.  Media  saxi  rupes  in  formam  theatri  recessit.  Quam- 
obrem  &  hominum  clamor,  &  si  quando  accedit  tubarum  sonus, 
personantibus  &  respondentibus  inter  se  rupibus,  multiplex  audiri, 
ampliorque  quam  cditur,  resonare  solet.  Quae  res  majorem  majes- 
tatis  terrorem  ignaris  rei,  &  admirationem  stupentibus  plerumque 
affert.  Just.  1.  xxiv.  c.  6. 


i'^fot  n  iyinotlo  VTTO  ru  ur^u,  xj  ipetv\tvcra.v\o  \$-  'AwoAXc**©-.  Pausan. 
Phoc.  C.  V  —  fottr*  Sf  tlvu.1  TO  (A.avlt~ov,  eiflpov  KoThor  xara  &t0a?,  tf 
xtyi^p^m  o'  i%  avra  Grvivpct  lt>Qucru>irix.ov.  Strabo, 

Geogr. 


220     OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO  [Book  IT. 

this,  or  any  other  of  the  vapours,  emitted  from  the 
fissures,  in  so  large  and  cavernous  a  rock,  to  be  endow 
ed  with  that  unctuous  or  otherwise  inflammable  quality 
which  modern  experience  shews  us  to  be  common  in 
mines  and  -ubttrrarieous  places,  we  can  easily  conceive 
how  the  priests  of  the  temple  might,  without  a  miracle, 
he  able  to  w  r;:  the  wonders  which  history  speaks  of  as 
effected  in  this  transaction.  For  the  throwing  doun  a 
lighted  torch  or  two  into  a  chasm,  from  whence  such 
s  vapour  issued,  would  set  the  whole  into  a  flame  ; 
which,  by  rarifying  and  dilating  the  inclosed  air,  would, 
like  iired  gunpowder,  blow  up  all  before  it.  These 
eiFects  are  so  known  and  dreaded  in  coal-mines,  subject 
to  inflammable  vapours,  that,  in  some  of  them,  in  the 
uorth  of  this  kingdom,  instead  of  lamps  or  candles, 
which  would  be  fatal,  the  workmen  are  obliged  to  have 
recourse  to  a  very  extraordinary  contrivance  to  give 
them  light,  which  is  the  application  of  a  flint  to  a  steel 
cylinder  in  motion.  And  we  cannot  suppose  the  priests, 
the  guardians  of  the  rock,  could  be  long  ignorant  of 
such  a  quality  ;  which  either  chance  or  designed  ex 
periments  might  bring  to  their  acquaintance  :  or  that 
they  would  divulge  it  when  they  had  discovered  it.  I 
am  even  inclined  to  think,  they  had  the  art  of  mana 
ging  this  quality  at  pleasure;  so  as  to  produce  a  greater 
or  less  effect,  as  their  occasions  required.  It  is  certain, 
otrabo  relates  *,  that  one  Onomarchus  with  his  com 

panions, 

Hpogr.  l.ix.—  In  hoc  rupis  anfractu,  media  ferme  mentis  altitudine, 
planities  exigua  est,  atque  in  ea  proiundum  terra:  foramen,  quod 
m  oracula  p.itct  :  tx  quo  frigidus  spiritus,  vi  quadam  velut  vento 
in  sublime  expulsus,  inentes  Vatum  in  vecordiam  vertit,  imple- 
taaque  Deo,  rebponsa  consulcntibus  dare  cogit.  Just.  lib.  xxiv. 
c.  6. 


* 


iI*   dt    icj   TO?;   aA>.o*$    ^ctoo>»   TV?   T«»ayT»j$    \iti'xJufiaiv$»     Striib. 

Gtogr.  lib.  ix. 


Chap.  VI.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       221 

panions,  as  they  were  attempting  by  night  to  dig  their 
way  through  to  rob  the  holy  treasury,  were  frightened 
from  their  work  by  the  violent  shaking  of  the.  rock  : 
and  he  adds,  that  the  same  phenomenon  had  defeated 
many  other  attempts  of  the  like  nature.  Now  whether 
the  tapers  which  Onomarchus  and  his  companions 
were  obliged  to  use  while  they  were  at  work,  inflamed 
the  vapour,  or  whether  the  priests  of  Apollo  heard 
them  at  it,  and  set  fire  to  a  countermine,  it  is  cer 
tain,  a  quality  of  this  kind  would  always  stand  them 
in  stead. 

Such  then,  I  presume,  was  the  expedient  they  em 
ployed  to  dislodge  this  nest  of  hornets,  which  had 
settled  at  the  foot  of  their  sacred  rock. 

It  is  further  remarkable  that  this  explosion  \va.~ 
followed  (as  it  was  likely  it  should)  by  an  event  of  as 
much  terror  and  affright,  a  storm  of  thunder,  lightning* 
and  hall  ;  which  these  violent  concussions  of  the  air 
physically  generate.  For  Justin  assures  us*,  the  tem 
pest  did  not  happen  till  after  the  fall  of  the  rock  ; 
though  the  Dean,  we  see,  makes  them  operate 
together. 

But  what,  after  all,  if  these  Barbarians  were  some 
thing  less  unfortunate  than  the  Priests  of  Apollo  would 
have  us  think  them  ;  and  had  got  a  considerable  bootv 
before  they  fell  into  this  disgrace?  Strabo  tells  an  odd 
story  f  of  the  Roman  General  Caepio's  rinding  a  vast 
treasure  at  Tolose,  supposed  to  be  part  ot  the  richer 
which  its  inhabitants,  the  Tectosages,  had  brought 

*  Imecuta  dcmde  tempestas  est,  quae  granduie  &  frigore  saucios 
«x  vulneribus  absumpsit.  L.  xxiv.  c.  8. 


Tt     £W<XVptf?      Ttf?      0£f«dma$     TffCt,^     UVTol'St      D7TO 

^   TUV   *Pvf*.aiuv   iv   IB  fan 
<f>oc,<ri'    iCfoffdtl'von    <tt    TW?  « 
L.  1Y. 

borne 


222      OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  II. 

home  from  this  very  expedition  against  the  Delphic 
God.  It  would  almost  make  one  suspect,  that  the 
priests,  before  they  came  to  extremities  with  the  sa 
cred  rock,  had  entered  into  treaty  with  these  Barba 
rians,  and  paid  them  a  large  tribute  to  decamp  and 
quit  the  country;  which  possibly  they  might  receive 
with  the  same  good  faith  that  their  countrymen,  in  a 
like  expedition,  weighed  out  the  Roman  gold,  before 
the  capitol ;  and  so  necessitate  the  Delphians  to  send 
down  the  rock  upon  them  to  clear  accounts;  just  as, 
in  the  other  instance,  Camillus  revenged  their  extortion 
in  Italy.  What  seerns  to  strengthen  our  conjecture 
is,  that  the  Tectosages,  in  order  to  appease  the  offended 
Deity,  had  consecrated  this  treasure  to  holy  uses, 
with  an  addition  of  their  own.  Nor  does  it  take 
from  the  credit  of  the  story,  that  all  which  the  pene 
trating  Strabo  hath  to  oppose  is  the  ill  success  of 
Brennus  and  his  followers,  as  we  find  it  related  in  the 
common  histories  of  the  expedition.  If  this  were  the 
case,  the  pretended  miracle  shrinks  into  a  very  slender 
kind  of  prodigy. 

However,  the  account  given  above  seems,  on  the 
whole,  to  be  the  true  solution  of  this  extraordinary 
event.  It  is  easy  and  natural;  and  the  cause  fully 
equal  to  the  effect.  But  my  chief  reason  for  being 
so  explicit,  was,  to  add  still  further  support  to  our 
general  conclusion ;  as  the  detail  would  shew,  that  all 
the  main  circumstances  in  the  destruction  at  Delphi, 
and  in  that  at  Jerusalem,  were  essentially  different. 

The  rock  on  which  Delphi  stood,  was  exactly  fitted 
for  such  a  contrivance :  The  mountain  at  Jerusalem, 
by  its  compactness  and  continuity,  altogether  im 
proper.  The  easy  object  of  Apollo's  resentment  was 
a  rabble  of  half-starved  and  half-intoxicated  Barba 
rians  :  The  object  of  the  resentment  of  the  God  of 

Israel 


Chap.  VI.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE. 

Israel  was  a  select  number  of  the  politest,  joined  to 
the  craftiest,  people  upon  earth,  detached  to  support 
a  project,  which  the  ablest  artists  of  all  kinds  were 
assembled  to  put  in  execution.  The  priexts  of  Apoliu 
were  masters  of  the  town  and  temple,  and  supported 
by  a  powerful  garrison  :  Both  the  priests  and  people 
of  the  God  of  Israel  were  dispersed,  and  had  left  the 
place  free  and  open  to  their  enemies. 

But  the  principal  difference  lay  in  the  grounds  and 
reasons  of  the  thing.  By  which  I  do  not  mean,  that 
one  event  was  supposed  to  be  the  agency  of  a  God  of 
the  Greeks,  and  the  other  of  the  God  of  the  Jen:*; 
For,  who  was  the  true,  and  who  the  false,  God,  the 
Gentlemen,  with  whom  we  are  concerned,  seem  willing 
should  remain  undetermined.  The  difference  lay  ii* 
this,  That  the  interposition  of  the  Delphic  Cod  was  u* 
save  the  treasures  of  his  priests ;  which  he  had,  at 
other  times,  and  on  more  flagitious  terms,  suffered  to 
be  violated.  But  the  interposition  of  the  Lord  <</' 
Hosts  was  to  save  the  Jionour  of  his  name,  \vhida  jit 
hath  never  since  suffered  to  be  impeached  by  niaii^r 
or  impiety,  throughout  a  course  of  fourteen  hundred 
years.  Or,  in  other  words,  to  defend  the  gener.u} 
system  of  revelation  from  being  forcibly  borne  dou  t? 
by  the  whole  power  of  the  Roman  empire,  lor 
attempt  to  re-establish  the  Jewish  worship  was  pro? 
fessedly  and  publicly  to  give  the  lie  to  the  prop/t 
on  which  Christianity  was  founded,  that  is,  to  the  (V(>// 
of  Heaven  himself:  the  most  important  occasion 
can  conceive  of  exerting  his  power,  as  including  in  il 
a  NECESSITY  to  exert  it.  But  more  of  this,  when  I 
come,  hereafter,  to  speak  of  the  nature  of  that  ei'i- 
dence  which  demand*  the  assent  of  every  reawnublt 
man  to  a  miraculous  j act. 

However,  it  may  not  be  amiss  at  present,  so  fur 

D 


224      OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  II. 

to  forestall  that  inquiry,  as,  by  way  of  specimen,  to 
say  one  word  of  a  particular  hitherto  untouched,  the 
specific  nature  of  this  supernatural  event.     A  circum 
stance  which  seems  greatly  to  confirm  and  illustrate 
all  that  hath  been   said.     I  have  observed,  that  the 
end  or  purpose  of  it  was  twofold  :   i .  To  support  the 
economy  of  God's  dispensation  *.    And,   ZrToJtttPush 
the  impiety  of  those  who  attempted  to  disturb  it  f .  As 
in  order  to  evince  the  first  end  or  purpose,  I  have 
shewn  J,  that  the  attempt  aimed  to  falsify  the  prophecy, 
which  had  foretold  the  tinal  destruction  of  the  temple ; 
so,  in  order  to  evince  the  second,  I  shall  now  shew, 
that  this  disaster  was  the   very  specific  punishment, 
which,  the  prophet  Isaiah  informs  the  Jews,  was  re- 
served  and  kept  in  store,  to  he  the  scourge  for  impiety 
and  rebellion.     Tnis  seems   to  be  considerable,  and 
of  moment.     For  where,  as  in  the  extraordinary  dis 
pensations  to  this  people,  the  specific  punishments, 
which,  from  time  to  time,  were  reserved,  by  God's 
decree,  for  their  chastisement,  had  been  marked  out, 
and  set  before  them ;  it  is  reasonable  to  expect,  that, 
when  a  supernatural   punishment  was  so  inflicted,  it 
would  be  by  the  agency  of  such  a  specific  disaster  as 
was  foretold  would  be  attendant  on  the  crime.     Now 
this,  we .  say,  was  exactly  the  case  in  the  affair  before 
us.     The  prophet  describes  the  punishment,  reserved 
for  the  obstinacy  and  impiety  of  the  Jewish   people, 
in  these  words,  Thou  shait  be  visited  of  the  Lord  of 
Hosts  zcitk  THUNDER,  and  with  EARTHQUAKE,  and 
great  noise,    with  STORM   AND  TEMPEST,    and  the 

FLAME  OF  DEVOURING  F1IIE§. 

Here  we  see  the  denunciation  and  execution  are  so 
wonderfully  coincident,  that  one  might  be  well  excused 

*  See  Book  i.  c.  i.          -\   See  p    185. 
J  See  Book  i,  c.  3.          §  Isa.  xxlx.  6. 

in 


Chap.  VI]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       225 

in  going  a  little  further,  and  even  supposing  the  words 
here  quoted  to  be  a  particular  prophesy  of  the  disaster 
in  question.  And  our  conjecture  would  receive  fur 
ther  countenance  from  this  important  circumstance, 
that  the  immediate  preceding  verses  are  an  undoubted 
prophesy  of  the  total  destruction  of  Jerusalem  by 
Titus.  JFoe  to  Ariel,  to  Ariel  the  city  where  David 
dwelt — /  will  camp  against  thce  round  about,  and  will 
lay  siege  against  thee  with  a  mount  >  and  will  raise 
forts  against  thce.  And  then  shall  be  brought  down^ 
andshalt  speak  out  of  the  ground,  and  thy  speech  shall 
be  low  out  of  the  dust — yea,  it  shall  be  at  an  instant, 
suddenly  *.  However  this  be ;  so  much,  at  least,  is 
certain,  That  had  a  writer  described  this  disaster  after 
the  event,  and  copied  from  it,  he  could  not  have  given 
a  more  exact  and  faithful  picture  ,of  it  than  the  prophet 
Isaiah  hath  here  done. 

But  it  is  now  time  to  turn  to  our  mathematician ; 
and  request  him  to  prepare  his  tables  of  calculation  ; 
if  for  no  other  purpose  than  to  gratify  our  curiosity  in 
the  doctrine  of  chances.  When  he  is  ready,  let  us 
know,  how  many  millions  to  one  are  the  odds  against 
a  natural  eruptions  securing  the  honour  of  the  Chris 
tian  Religion,  at  that  very  important  juncture  wheq 
God's  omnipotence  was  thus  openly  defied  ;  and  not 
by  this  or  that  crack-brained  atheist,  but  by  all  the 
powers  of  the  world  combined  against  it.  Let  him 
add  these  other  circumstances,  that  the  mountain  of 
the  temple  was,  both  from  its  frame  and  situation, 
most  unlikely  to  be  the  scene  of  a  physical  erupt'um: 
and  that  this  eruption  was  confined,  contrary  to  its 
usual  nature,  to  that  very  spot  of  ground  :  and  then 
see  how  these  will  increase  the  odds.  But  his  task  is 
but  begun ;  he  must  reckon  another  circumstance,  the 

*  Ver.  3,  4,  5.  confer  this  with  Matt,  xxiv.  17,  18. 

VOL.  VIII.  Q  fire's 


226      OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  I!. 

fire's  obstinately  breaking  out  by  fits,  as  often  as  they 
attempted  to  proceed;  and  its  total  extinction  on  their 
giving  up  the  enterprize :  let  him,   I  say,  add  this  to 
the  account,  and  see  how  it  will  then  stand.   To  these, 
too,  he  must  join  the  phenomena  of  the  cross  in  the 
air,  and  on  the  garments ;  AY  Inch  will  open  a  new  ca 
reer  to  his  calculations.     And   further,  to  inflame  the 
reckoning,  he  may  take  notice,  that  history  speaks  but 
of  one  other  commotion  confined  to  the  intrails  of  this 
hill,  which  likewise  happened  at  a  very  critical  junc 
ture,  the  crucijirion  of  our  Lord,  when  the  vatloftte 
temple  was  rent  in  twain  from  the  top  to  the  bottom, 
and  the  earth  did  quake,  and  the  rocks  rent  *.    Lastly, 
he  may  reflect,  if  he  pleases,  that  all  these  odds  lie  on 
the  side  of  a  divine  interposition  to  hinder  an  attempt, 
which  a  space  of  fourteen  hundred  years  hath   never 
seen  revived ;  though  the  project  itself  (the  restoration 
of  one  of  the  most  celebrated  temples   in  the  world) 
is  in   its  nature  most  alluring  to  superstition :    and 
though  the  long  imbecilities  of  religion  and  govern 
ment,  in  the  various  revolutions  there  undergone,  have 
afforded  ample  opportunity  10  a  rich  and  crafty  people 
to  effect  what  was  the  only  means  of  wiping  out  their 
opprobrium,    and    redeeming    them  from    universal 
fc. contempt.     He  must,  I  say,  take  in   all  this  before 
he  sums  up  the  account.  And  then,  if  he  be  ingenuous, 
without  doubt  he  will  confess,  that  to  compute  the 
immensity  of  these  odds  will  exceed  all  the  powers  of 
number. 

To  speak  freely,  The  attempt  to  account  for  it  by 

a  natural  cause  is  a  wretched  evasion.  Let  us  consider 

in  how  different  a  manner  unbelievers  are  wont  to 

treat  those  parallel  miracles,  The  bursting  of  water 

from  the,  rock  at  the  command  of  Moses ;  and,  cfjire 

*  Matt,  xxvii.  51. 

from 


Cha?.  VI.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       227 

from  the  earth  to  punish  the  rebellion  of  Korah.  No 
man  was  ever  so  wild  to  charge  these  facts  to  the  ac 
count  of  natural  causes.  And  yet,  the  sudden  gushing 
out  of  water  from  a  rock  is  certainly  a  commoner 
thing  than  a  burning  mountain.  .But  the  reason  of 
their  reserve,  in  these  instances,  is  plain;  they  had 
other  causes  at  hand,  besides  natural  events,  to  exclude 
a  miracle ;  such  as  human  artifice  and  contrivance  ; 
the  uncert  linty  of  very  early  history,  £c.  But,  in  the 
eruption  from  the  foundations  of  the  temple,  the  fact 
was  so  we'll  circumstanced,  that  an  objector  found 
nothing  else  left  to  trade  with  but  this  last  miserable 
shift:  which,  when  all  other  means  fail,  is  still  at 
hand  to  keep  back  that  bugbear  to  impiety,  GOD'S 
MOU  A  L  GOVERN  M  EX  T,  which  government,  together  with 
REVEALED  RELIGION,  founaed  on  it,  are  (to  observe 
it  by  the  way)  as  compleatly  exhibited  by  one  miracu 
lous  interposition,  fully  proved,  as  by  one  hundred. 

In  support  of  all  that  hath  been  said,  give  me  leave 
to  observe,  That  the  contemporary  evidence,  who, 
from  their  more  intimate  knowledge  of  the  fact,  must 
needs  be  allowed  the  best  judges  of  its  nature  in  ge 
neral,  give  no  intimation  that  they  themselves  thought, 
or  that  others  suspected  it  to  be  a  natural  event.  Ju 
lian,  indeed,  to  hide  his  confusion,  insinuates  *  some 
thing  like  it,  but  under  cover  of  the  destruction  of  the 
temple  at  Daphne  |* ;  and  otherwise,  in  so  oblique 
and  obscure  a  manner  as  shews  him  to  be  ashamed  of 
so  foolish  a  pretence.  But  then  his  honest  and  well- 
nstructcd  advocate,  Amm.  Marcellinus,  is  far  from 
giving  into  this  suspicion ;  the  different  rcnnner  in 

*  Sec  pp.  80,  &c. 

'  -'  Which,  it  is  not  unlikely,  was  burnt  by  common '  lightning, 
though  Julian,  in  his  Misopogon,  directly  charges  it  on  the 
'  hnstiuns. 

a  2  which 


228      OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO     [Book  II. 

which  he   relates  the  two  events  at  Nicomedia  and 
Jerusalem   evidently  imply  the  contrary.     In  his  ac 
count  of  \\ivjbrmery  out  of  a  pure  parade  of  science, 
he  digresses,  on   the  physical  causes  of  earthquakes. 
In  the  latter  (would  the  fact  have  borne  him  out)  he 
had   better  reasons   than   an  affectation   to  shew  his 
learning,  to   tell   us  what  the  philosophers  had   said 
most  plausible.',  in  favour  of  a  natural  event ;  for  had 
that  been  the  fact,  the  true  cause,'  he  knew,  was  uni 
versally  mistaken  ;  and  Paganism  was  essentially  con 
cerned  to  have  that  mistake  rectified.   On  the  contrary, 
Ammianus  hath  contributed  to  support  the  general 
opinion,  by  expressions  which  evidently  imply  superior 
agency.     Yet  was  this  candid  Historian  nothing  shy 
in  speaking  his  mind,  when  he  conceived  either  fraud 
or  superstition  had  too  large  a  share  in  common  re 
ports.     For,  mentioning  the  conflagration  of  Apollo's 
temple  at  Daphne,  which  the  Christians  boasted  to  be 
miraculously  consumed  by  lightning,  he  frankly  de 
clares  it  was  suspected  to  have  been  set  on  fire  by 
themselves  *.     But  why  should  I  insist  on  the  conduct 
of  so  fair  an  adversary  as  MarcelHnus,  when  Libanius, 
and  the  rest  of  Julian's  sophists,  those  bigots  to  Pa* 
ganism,  and  inflarners  of  their  master's  follies,  dared 
not  so  much  as  mutter  the  least  suspicion  of  this  na 
ture,  though  the  first  of  them,  as  we  have  seen,  hath 
mentioned  this  disaster  in  such  a  manner  as  shews  he 
well  understood  the  necessity  of  throwing  into  shade, 
what  he  could  give  no  good  account  of,  if  placed  in  a 
fair  light.     Nor  was  their  silence  the  effect  of  fear,  or 
•want  of  good- will.     In  more  dangerous  and  offensive 
matters  they  spoke- freely ;  and  with  insolence  enough ; 

*  Suspicabatur  id  Christianos  egisse  stimulates  invidia,  quod 
idem  templum  inviti  videbant  ambitioso  circumdari  peristylio. 
L.  xxii.  c.  13. 

For 


Chap.  VI.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.        219 

For  when  the  Christians  every  where  gave  out  that 
the  death  of  Julian  was  miraculous,  these  friends  of 
his  publicly  maintained  that  lie  was  basely  assassinated 
by  a  Christian  soldier ;  and  undertook  to  make  good 
the  charge,  at  their  own  peril  *,  if  the  emperor 
would  appoint  commissaries  to  examine  into  the  fact. 
Lastly,  the  Fathers  and  Church  Historians,  who  are 
so  large  in  establishing  the  credit  of  God's  interposi 
tion  at  Jerusalem,  afford  us  not  the  least  hint  that 
their  adversaries  ever  thought  of  evading  it  by  the 
pretence  of  a  natural  event. 


*  See  Libanius  virtg  r~is  'laXta^S  rtptffUK*  Fabr.  Bibl.  Grace, 
vol.  vii.  and  the  oblique  reflections  of  the  noble  author  of  the 
Characteristics  upon  it,  vol.  iii.  Mis.  ii.  c.  3. — But,  by  what  I 
can  gather  from  antiquity,  it  seems  to  have  been  a  frank  calumny. 
Eutropius,  who.  was  in  the  action,  and  Marcellinus,  who  served 
there  in  the  body-guards,  seem,  neither  of  them,  to  have  enter 
tained  the  least  suspicion  of  this  kind.  Besides,  Julian  was 
wounded  at  that  very  instant  when  the  darts  of  the  Persians  were 
known  to  do  most  execution ;  that  is  to  say,  in  one  of  their 
dissembled  Jtights ;  and  when  his  own  guards  forewarned  him  of 
the  danger,  in  pressing  upon  their  rear — "  Clarnabant  hinc  inde 
"  candidati  (says  Ammiarius)  ut  fugiontium  molem  tamquam 
**  ruinam  male  compesiti  cnlminis  declinaret:  et  incertum  subita 
"  equestris  hasta  cute  brachii  ejus  pra2stricta,  costis  perfbssis 
"  haesit  in  ima  jecoris  fibra."  Lib.  xxv.  c.  iii.  But  what  shall 
we  say  to  the  emperor's  own  testimony;  who,  in  his  dying  ha 
rangue,  returns  thanks  to  God  for  not  suffering  him  to  fall  by 
secret  conspiracy  ?  — "  Ideoque  sempiternum  veneror  numeri  quod 
44  non  clandcstinis  insidiis,  nee  longa  morborum  aspcriute,  vel 
"  damnatorum  fine  decedo :  sed  in  medio  cursu  florentium  glori- 
"  arum  hunc  merui  clarum  e  mundo  digrfssum."  Id.  ib.  And  this 
testimony  will  be  seen  to  have  the  more  weight,  if  we  consider, 

Q  3  tivat 


230     OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  II. 

that  Julian  having  (as  in  th'S  place  he  tells  us)  consulted  the 
oracle  about  his  t.tte,  was  answered,  that  he  should  fall  by  the 
sword  —  "  intentuium  m<-  terro  dudum  didici  fide  fatidica  prseci- 
ft  nente."  Id.  ib.  The  ambiguity  of  '.\hich  answer  would  natu 
rally  make  him  as  vigilant  against  his  personal  enemies,  as  against 
the  enemies  of  the  state.  So  that  when  he  calls  his  death  clantm 
digre>sum,  we  may  take  his  word  for  it,  that  he  knew  it  to  be  by 
the  darts  of  the  PersLns. 

Yet  Libanius,  we  see,  brings  a  formal  charge  against  the  Chris 
tians,  of  a  pretended  assassinate;  and  offered  himself  as  the  pro 
secutor,  to  m.ike  it  good.  What  evidence  he  had  in  reserve  is 
hard  to  say:  But,  in  his  (Jra-ion  to  rei'cngc  the  deaf  h  of  his 
master,  having  related  that  Sapor,  willing  to  recompense  the 
hand  which  had  worked  his  deliverance,  had  published  a  reward 
which  nobody  came  in  to  receive,  and  from  thence  had  concluded, 
that  Julian  must  have  fallen  by  one  of  his  own  soldiers  ;  Libanius, 
I  say,  calls  this  the  strongest  proof  of  all,  TO  3e  u,;ytro»  a.7rat\uv. 
And  it  was  no  wonder  he  rated  it  so  high  :  for  when  he  composed 
his  funeral  oration  on  the  death  of  Julian,  he  was  so  unfurnished 
on  this  head,  that  he  takes  it.  for  granted  his  master  was  slain 
by  a  Persian  horseman,  VTT  *Ap/a»^e>i^»  nwq  nctrsvr.viKltx.1.  —  At  that 
time,  he  seemed  to  think  with  Eutropius,  Marcellinus,  and  every 
other  reasonable  nan,  that'  the  circumstance  of  the  reward's 
being  unclaimed,  was  so  far  from  being  extraordinary,  that  it  was 
not  to  be  expected  a  particular  stroke  should  be  distinguished 
amidst  a  general  flight  of  darts  and  arrows.  A  great  poet,  long 
before,  in  the  description  of  a  battle,  had  feigned  the  same  acci 
dent  :  but  he  had  too  much  good  sense  to  suppose  so  unlikely 
a  circumstance  attending  it,  as  that  the  author  of  the  stroke  was 
either  distinguished  by  others,  or  conscious  of  it  himself: 

"  Ecce,  viro  stridens  alis  allepsa  sagitta  est, 
"  Incertum  qua  pulsa  manu,  quo  turbine  adacta; 
"  Quis  tantam  Rulili.s  laudem,  casusne  dt-usne, 
"  Attulerit  pressa  est  insignis  gloria  facti  ; 

c'    NEC  SESE  &N££  JACTAVJT  VOLNERE  QUISQUAN." 


But,  you  will  say,  Libanius  was  better  informed   when  he  wrote 
the  Oration  to  revenge  his  death.     Be  it  so.     It  is  certain,  how 

ever, 


Chap.  VI.]     REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       231 

ever,  be  does  no  honour  to  bis  information  ;  neitber  in  tbc  matter, 
nor  in  tbe  composition  of  tbat  piece  ;  it  being  indeed  one  of  the 
meanest  and  most  disingenuous  discourses  of  all  antiquity  :  and, 
in  every  respect,  so  pitiful,  tluit,  bad  the  reasoning  and  rhetoric 
belonged  to  a  Father,  our  aiiti-crclesiaslics  could  not  have  desired 
a  better  fund  for  their  mirth  and  raillery. 

On  the  whole,  this  calumny  seems  to  have  had  its  birth  from 
a  stratagem  of  Sapor  to  throw  the  Roman  army  into  discord  and 
confusion,  when,  on  the  death  of  Julian,  he  found  it  was  not  like 
to  become  so  easy  a  prey  to  him,  as  he  expected.  It  is  probable 
lie  published  the  reward,  spoken  of  above,  without  affectation 
or  design :  but  no  one  coming  to  lay  in  his  claim,  he  found  a 
good  use  might  be  made  of  it ;  and  so  gave  out,  That  Julian 
must  needs  be  slain  by  a  Roman  soldier,  since,  after  the  most 
diligent  search  amongst  his  own  troops,  there  was  no  one  that 
pretended  to  the  merit  of  his  death.  That  this  report  might  make 
its  due  impression,  he  ordered  the  Persians  (who  were  then  ha 
rassing  the  Romans)  whenever  they  came  up  within  hearing  of 
the  enemy,  to  reproach  them  with  the  murder  of  their  master: 
It  was  in  prosecution  of  the  same  scheme,  that  when  the  am 
bassadors,  whom  Jovian  sent  to  treat  of  peace,  came  to  their 
audience.  The  first  question  he  asked  them  was,  Whether  Julian's 
death  bad  been  yet  revenged.  Bnt  why  so  much  solicitude  in  a 
matter  he  had  no  concern  in  :  and  so  much  resentment  of  an  ac 
tion  he  had  reaped  such  advantages  from,  if  he  did  not  expect, 
bv  this  affected  generosity,  to  reap  greater  ?  Every  man  of  sense 
in  the  army  treated  this  artifice  as  it  deserved :  and  hence,  with 
out  doubt,  the  neglect  shewn  to  it  by  Eutropius  and  Marcellinus. 
Nor  is  this  a  stratagem  unusual  in  war.  Our  Henry  V.  em 
ployed  it  with  success  after  the  battle  of  Azincourjt,  to  appease 
the  duke  of  Burgundy,  when  he  sent  the  king  his  gantlet  by  an 
herald  (the  declaration  of  war  in'  those  times)  to  revenge  the 
death  of  bis  two  brothers,  who  fell  in  that  action  fighting  on  the 
side  of  Charles  VI.  For,  unwilling  to  bringdown  upon  himself 
so  powerful  an  enemy,  but  principally  desirous  of  inflaming  the 
distracted  councils  of  France,  he  took  advantage  of  the  quarrels 
between  the  houses  of  Burgundy  and  Orleans,  to  assure  the  herald 
that  the  duke's  brothers  were  not  killed  by  the  English  troops, 

Q  4  but 


132     OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO    [Book  II. 

but  by  those  of  their  own  party,  in  the  faction  of  Orleans :  of 
•which,  he  said,  he  would  produce  evidence,  and  make  good  his 
allegation  to  the  full.  But  he  performed  his  word  just  as  Sapor 
did  his,  of  the  assassinate  of  Julian  :  where  (to  return  to  our  sub 
ject)  the  pretence  was  so  gross  and  ridiculous,  that  it  is  probable 
we  had  heard  no  more  of  it,  had  it  not  been  for  the  delusion  of 
some  Christians,  who,  being  on  the  hunt  after  miracles,  catched 
at  the  circumstance  of  the  dart's  coming  from  an  unknown 
hand,  to  make  a  miracle  of  the  apostate's  death.  Henceforward 
the  fable  received  new  vigour;  and  soon  after,  a  kind  of  esta 
blishment,  from  the  strange  indiscretion  of  Sozomene,  who  would 
needs  venture  to  defend  the  morality  of  this  pretended  assassinate  : 
a  rashness  which  did  the  faithful  more  dishonour  than  all  the 
contrivances  of  Julian  against  them.  And  yet,  to  do  justice  to 
every  one,  the  folly,  to  speak  no  worse  of  it,  is  not  to  be  charged 
on  the  Christian  principles,  but  on  the  Pagan ;  which  Sozomene 
would  not  suffer  his  Christianity  to  correct ;  for  the  cutting  off  a 
tyrant  was  one  of  the  most  illustrious  of  the  Pagan  virtues ;  and 
unhappily  our  church-historian  seems  to  have  been  struck  with 
the  glory  attending  that  achievement. 


REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.  333 


CONCLUSION. 

i 

W  E  shall  conclude  with  a  short  recapitulation  of 
the  whole  argument. 

First,  It  hath  been  shewn,  That  the  occasion  was 
most  important;  and  that  the  credit  and  honour 
of  Revelation  required  God's  interposition  at  this 
juncture. 

That  Julian  aggravated  the  impiety  of  his  attempt, 
by  all  the  insulting  circumstances  most  likely  to  bring 
upon  him  the  vengeance  of  heaven. 

That  the  event  is  established  by  all  the  power  of 
human  testimony :  That  the  church  hath  borne  witness 
to  it  by  a  full,  consistent,  and  contemporary  evidence. 

That  the  adversaries  of  our  holy  Faith,  who  were  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  the  scene,  the  followers  of  Ju 
lian,  and  most  partial  to  his  views,  have  confirmed 
their  report.  Nay,  that  the  emperor  himself  hath 
confessed  the  hand  which  overcame  him,  though  with 
tha't  disingenuity  which  characterises  the  sophist  and 
the  bigot,  in  what  party  soever  they  are  found. 

And  lastly,  That  the^foct  was,  in  its  nature,  such 
as  least  admitted  of  unfaithful  accounts  concerning  it. 

Then  the  OBJECTIONS  to  the  miracle  have  been 
considered. 

It  hath  been  shewn,  that,  from  the  word  of  PRO 
PHECY,  and  the  course  of  God's  dispensations,  his 
interposition  was  even  necessary  to  support  the  honour 
of  Religion. 

That  the  evidence  of  the  historian,  AMM.  MAR- 
c  ELLIN  us,  is  so  full  and  perfect  in  all  its  parts,  that 
there  is  not  one  circumstance  in  his  character  or  testi 
mony, 


OF  JULIAN'S  ATTEMPT  TO       [Con- 

rnbny,  which  an  unbeliever  could  abuse,  to  keep  back 
his  assent ;  nor  any  wanting,  which  a  Believer  would 
desire,  to  prevent" a  cavil. 

That  the  several  accounts  of  the  FATHERS  of  the 
Church  and  the  Ecclesiastical  Historians  are  not  only 
consistent  with,  but  highly  corroborative  of,  one  an 
other  ;  and,,  that  such  parts  of  their  relations  as  appear 
at  first  sight  most  prodigious,  are  indeed,  when  ma 
turely  examined,  the  parts  which  most  deserve  credit. 

That  it  is  very  unlikely,  nay  almost  impossible, 
that  the  eruption  should  be  the  effect  of  human  ART 
and  contrivance. 

And  lastly,  that  it  is  no  less  absurd  to  suppose  it  a 
NATURAL  event. 

Thus  new  light  continually  springing  up  from  each 
circumstance  as  it  passed  in  review;  by  such  time  as 
the  whole  was  considered,  this  illustrious  MIRACLE 
hath  come  out  in  one  full  blaze  of  evidence.  Inso 
much,  that  I  will  venture  to  affirm,  there  is  nothing 
to  be  opposed  to  its  force,  but  what  must  at  the  same 
time  destroy  the  credit  of  all  human  testimony  what 
soever. 

When,  therefore,  the  Reader  reflects,  how  little 
this  invincible  demonstration  for  our  holy  Faith  hath 
been  hitherto  insisted  on ;  how  slightly  it  hath  been 
handled  ;  and  how  hastily  and  slovenly  hurried  over ; 
he  will  possibly  find  cause  to  wonder  as  much,  on  the 
one  hand,  at  this  strange  inattention,  as  on  the  other, 
at  the  unreasonable  credulity  of  the  blind  adorers  of 
antiquity.  For  though  it  hath  ever  affected  the  learned 
and  impartial  observer  with  the  superiority  of  its  evi 
dence,  yet  no  one  before,  that  I  know  of,  hath  at 
tempted  to  set  that  superiority  in  a  just  light,  though 
provoked  to  it  by  the  insolence  of  our  enemies,  and, 
what  is  still  more  provoking,  the  indiscretion  of  our 

FRIENDS  : 


elusion.]          REBUILD  THE  TEMPLE.       235 

ritiF.NDS  :  some  of  whom  have  hinted  their  suspicions 
in  private  ;  and  others  given  more  open  intimations  of 
its  falsehood. 

This,  in  part,  m\y  be  owing  to  those  ticklish  cir 
cumstances  in  tUe  evidence  of  the  Father^  which,  on 
examination,  we  have  s»liewn  to  he  its  principal  sup 
port.  But  what  ha tli  chiefly  occasioned  this  neglect, 
I  am  persuaded,  is  the  state  and  condition  of  the 
Ecclesiastical  History  of  that  time ;  when  the  light  of 
miracles  was  surrounded  with  such  a  swarm  of  monkish 
fables,  as  was  enough  to  darken  the  brightest  of  its 
rays  ;  and,  indeed,  nothing,  but  the  force  of  its  divine 
extraction,  could  ever  have  broke  through  them : 
for,  as  if  these  unhappy  artificers  designed  what  they 
brought  to  pass,  they  were  not  content  to  counterfeit 
the  hand  of  God  on  other  common  occasions  :  they 
would  try  their  skill  on  this,  where  it  had  been  sa 
eminently  displayed  ;  and  actually  contrived  to  mimic 
its  most  essential  and  triumphant  circumstances.  Ac 
cordingly,  Church  History  informs  us,  that  when  Ju 
lian  and  his  brother  Gallus  projected  to  build  a  temple 
over  the  sepulchre  of  one  St.  Mamas  ;  that  part  which 
Julian  undertook  jfe'/  down  again  as  soon  as  built;  the 
saint,  it  seems,  disdaining  the  service  of  the  future 
apostate.  The  cloudy  monk,  who  invented  this  fable, 
had,  we  see,  two  conceits  in  his  head  :  he  would  make 
Julian's  offering  as  unacceptable  as  Cain's ;  and  re 
solving  likewise,  he  should  be  an  unlucky  builder 
through  life,  would  not  give  him  the  skill  or  privilege 
of  that  primitive  out-law.  The  same  History  again 
informs  us*,  That  once,  when  Julian  sacrificed,  there 
was  found  impressed*  upon  the  entrails  of  the  victim, 
a  cross  iritltin  a  crown  cr  circle:  for  uhen  the  monks 
had  once  got  the  apostate  into  their  hands,  they  treated 
*  Greg.  Naz.  Oral.  iii.  Soz.  1.  v.  c.  2. 

him 


236     OF  JUUAN'S  ATTEMPT,  &c. 

him  as  a  true  Demoniac;   and   so  plied   him  -with 
CROSSES,  that  sovereign  Panacea  of  the  Exorcists. 

Thus  they  dressed  up  their  impostures  as  like  as 
they  could,  in  garb  and  fashion,  to  the  miracles  of 
heavenly  extraction ;  with  the  spirit,  or,  must  we  say, 
in  imitation  of  those  Pagan  priests,  who  forged  their 
jAncilia  to  secure  the  SACKED  SHIELD  which  fell  from 
heaven :  as  if  they  had  taken  it  into  their  heads,  that 
true  miracles,  unattended  with  these  delusions,  were 
in  the  same  danger  from  the  enemies  of  the  Faith, 
that  theP  allodium  of  Rome  was  from  robbers,  without 
a  numerous  guard  of  brazen  counterfeits. 


EN  D 

Or     TREATISE 

ON    JULIAN'S    ATTEMPT    TO    REBUILD 
THE    TEMPLE, 


THE 

DOCTRINE   OF   GRACE; 

OR, 

THE  OFFICE  AND  OPERATIONS  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT 
riNDICATED 

TROM  THE  INSULTS  OF  INFIDELITY 

AND 

THE  ABUSES  OF  FANATICISM: 

WITH 

SOME  THOUGHTS 

(Humbly  offered  to  the  Consideration  of  the  Established  Clergy) 

REGARDING 

THE  RIGHT   METHOD  OF  DEFENDING  RELIGION 
AGAINST  THE  ATTACKS  OF  EITHER  PARTY. 

IN  THREE  BOOKS. 


1750. 


ADVERTISEMENT  to  the  First  Edition. 

PREFACE. 

BOOK    I.    -     -     -     containing  Chaps.  I.  to  X. 

BOOK   II.    .,----    Chaps.  I.  to  XII. 

BOOK  III.  ......     Chaps.  I.  II.  &  III. 


ADVERTISEMENT 

TO   THE    FIRST   EDITION. 

WHILE  I  was  composing  these  sheets  to  vindicate 
the  honour  of  Religion,  it  was  given  out,  that  I  was 
writing  in  defence  of  a  late  Minister  of  State. 

I  have  a  Master  above,  and  I  have  one  below;  I 
mean  GOD,  and  the  KING.  To  them  my  services  are 
bound. 

The  most  sacred  of  all  private  ties  are  Friendship 
and  Gratitude.  The  duties  arising  from  these,  though 
not-altogether  so  extensive  as  the  other,  are  subservient 
only  to  them. 

With  respect  to  the  great  Minister  here  understood, 
His  vindication,  had  he  wanted  any,  could  come,  with 
proper  dignity,  only  from  himself.  And  he,  thougli 
for  the  first  time,  would  be  here  but  a  Copier :  I  mean, 
of  the  example  of  that  First  of  Romans  *  ;  who  being 
calumniated  before  the  people  by  one  NT£evius,  an 
obscure  Plebeian,  when  he  came  to  make  his  defence, 
which  happened  to  be  on  the  anniversary  of  the  battle 
of  Zama,  addressed  the  assembly  in  this  manner :  "It 
"  was  on  this  day,  Romans,  that  I  subdued  your  mighty 
"  Rival  for  Empire,  the  Carthaginian.  Ill  would  it 
:<  become  the  friends  of  Rome  to  waste  such  a  day  in 
"  wrangling  and  contention.  We  should  now  be  re- 
"  turning  thanks  to  the  immortal  Gods  for  the  signal 

*  Scipio  Africnmis;  who  restored  his  country  by  carrying  the 
war  fioia  Home  to  Carthage. 

"  protection 


240  ADVERTISEMENT. 

"  protection  they  afforded  us  in  that  glorious  conflict. 
"  Let  us  leave  then  this  fellow  with  himself,  and  ascend 
"  together  to  the  capitol,  to  offer  to  Jupiter  the 
"  Deliverer;  who,  on  all  occasions  as  well  as  this, 
(C  hath,  from  my  early  youth,  vouchsafed  to  bestow 
"  upon  me  the  growing  power  and  the  constant  dis- 
"  position  to  support  the  honour  of  my  country.  And 
"  let  no  God,  auspicious  to  Rome,  be  left  uninvoked, 
"  that  the  State,  in  its  distresses,  may  never  want  such 
"  servants  as  I  have  still  endeavoured  to  approve 
((  myself."  When  he  had  said  this,  he  slept  from  the 
rostrum,  and  left  the  forum  empty ;  all  the  people 
following  him  to  the  capitol. 

That  the  people  followed  him  is  not  surely  the  marvel 
lous  part  of  the  story.  The  thing  to  be  admired  is, 
that  a  Statesman  should  lead  the  people  to  prayers. 

This  indeed  is  the  last  service  a  Patriot-minister  can 
render  to  his  country.  And  I  am  well  persuaded  (so 
exactly  does  the  example  fit  the  occasion)  that  our 
illustrious  Modern  would  have  deemed  it  the  crown 
of  his  labours  to  have  animated  his  Fellow-citizens  with 
a  spirit  of  true  piety  towards  GOD,  as  successfully  as 
he  inflamed  them  with  a  spirit  of  zeal  and  fortitude  for 
the  King  and  Constitution. 


PREFACE 


1    241    ] 


PREFACE 

T  O 

THE   DOCTRINE    OF   GRACE. 

THE  CONTEMPT  of  Religion  soon  followed  the 
ABUSE  ;  and  both  of  them  have  existed  almost  ever 
since  the  first  institution  of  the  thing  itself.  For,  that 
corruption  of  heart,  whose  disorder  Religion  was  or 
dained  to  cure,  has  been  ever  struggling  against  its 
Remedy. 

I.  In  the  days  of  Solomon,  when  Wisdom  was  at 
its  height,  Folly*  as  we  learn  from  many  passages  in 
the  writings  of  that  sacred  sage,  kept  equal  paces  with 
it.  Hence  it  is,  that,  after  lie  has  given  many  lively 
paintings  of  the  deformed  features*  of  Irreligion  and 
Bigotry,  he  subjoins  directions  to  the  sober  advocate 
of  Piety  and  Virtue,  how  best  to  repress  their  insolence 
and  vanity.  ANSWER  NOT  ajool  (says  he)  according 
to  his  folly,  lest  thou  also  be,  like  unto  him.  ANSWER 
a  Fool  according  to  his  Jolly,  lest  he  be  wise  in  his  own 
conctit  *. 

Short,  isolated  sentences  were  the  mode  in  which 
ancient  wisdom  delighted  to  convey  its  precepts  for 
the  regulation  of  human  conduct.  But  when  this 
natural  method  had  lost  the  grace  of  novelty,  ^nd  a 
growing  refinement  had  new-coloured  the  candid  sim 
plicity  of  ancient  manners,  these  instructive  sages  found 
a  necessity  uf  giving  to  their  moral  rraxinis  thes 
ing  and  poignancy  of  paradoxes.  In  these  lively  and 
useful  sports  of  fancy,  the  son  of  David,  we  are  told, 

*  Prov.  xxvi.  4,  5 

VOL.  VIII.  R  most 


242  PREFACE  TO  THE 

most  excelled.  We  find  them  to  abound  in  the  writ 
ings  which  bear  his  name ;  and  we  meet  with  frequent 
allusions  to  them  in  all  the  parts  of  sacred  Writ,  under 
the  names  of  Riddles,  Parables,  and  Dark-sayings. 

Now  of  all  the  examples  of  this  species  of  instruc 
tion,  there  is  none  more  illustrious,  or  fuller  of  moral 
wisdom,  than  the  paradox  just  now  quoted ;  or  which, 
in  the  happiness  of  the  expression,  has  so  artfully  con 
veyed  the  key  for  opening  the  treasures  of  it.  But  as 
a  dark  conceit  and  a  dull  one  have  a  great  proximity  in 
modern  wit ;  and  a  nice  difference  is  not  distinguished 
from  a  contradiction  in  modern  reasoning ;  this  paradox 
of  the  Sage  has  been  mistaken  by  his  critics  for  an 
absurdity  of  some  of  his  transcribers,  who  forgot  the 
negative  in  the  latter  member  of  the  sentence :  and  so, 
to  be  set  right  at  an  easier  expence  than  unfolding  dark 
sentences  of  old ;  that  is  to  say,  by  exchanging  them 
fur  clearer,  of  a  modern  date :  which  time  can  make 
ANCIENT  HEADINGS;  and  which  a  careful  collation 
of  its  blunders  may  hereafter  make  the  TRUE. 

II.  But  they  who  chuse  to  receive  antiquity  in  its 
antique  garb,  will,  perhaps,  venture  with  me  to  try,  if 
the  apparent  contradiction  in  the  received  text  cannot 
be  fairly  unriddled  without  any  other  aid  than  of  the 
words  themselves,  in  which  the  dark  saying  is  con 
veyed. 

Had  the  folly  of  these  fools  been  only  of  one  con 
dition  or  denomination,  then  the  advice  to  answer,  and 
not  to  answer,  had  been  repugnant  to  itself.  But  as 
their  folly  was  of  various  kinds,  in  some  of  which,  to 
answer  might  offend  the  dignity,  and  in  others,  not  to 
answer  might  hurt  the  interests  of  Truth  ;  To  answer, 
and  not  to  answer,  is  a  consistent,  and  may,  for  aught 
these  critics  know,  be  a  very  wise  direction. 

23  Had 


DOCTRINE  OF  GRACE.         243 

Had  the  advice  been  given  simply  and  without  cir 
cumstance,  to  ansrccr  the  foci,  and  not  to  answer  h'm, 
a  critic,  who  had  a  reverence  for  the  text,  would  satiety 
himself  in  supposing,  that  thj  different  directions  re 
ferred  to  the  doing  a  thing  in  and  out  of  season.  Hut 
when,  to  the  general  advice  about  answering,  this  cir 
cumstance  is  added — according  to  his  folly,  that  inter 
pretation  is  excluded  ;  and  a  difficulty  indeed  arises ; 
a  difficulty,  which  has  made  those  who  have  no  reve 
rence  for  the  TEXT,  to  accuse  it  of  absurdity  and  con 
tradiction. 

But  now,  to  each  direction,  reasons  are  subjoined, 
Why  a  Fool  should,  and  why  he  should  not,  be  answer 
ed:  reasons,  which,  when  set  together  and  compared, 
are,  at  first  sight,  sufficient  to  make  the  critic  suspect, 
that  all  the  contradiction  lies  in  his  own  incumbered 
ideas. 

1.  The  reason  given,   why  a  Fool  should  not  be 
answered  according  to  his  folly,  is,  lest  he  [the  Answer 
er]  be  like  unto  him  : 

2.  The  reason  given,  why  he  should  be  answered 
according  to  his  folly,  is,  kst  he  [the  Fool]  be  wise 
in  his  own  conceit. 

The  cause  assigned,  of  forbidding  to  answer,  there 
fore,  plainly  insinuates,  that  the  Defender  of  Religion 
should  not  imitate  the  insulter  of  it  in  his  modes  of 
disputation-,  which  may  be  comprised  in  sophistry, 
buffbonry,  and  scurrility.  For  what  could  so  much 
liken  the  answerer  to  his  idiot-adversary,  as  the  putting 
on  his  fool's-coat  in  order  to  captivate  and  confound 
the  rabble  ? 

The  cause  assigned,  of  directing  to  answer,  as 
plainly  intimates,  that  the  Sage  should  address  himself 
to  confute  the  fool  upon  the  fool's  own  Jake  principles, 

n  2  by 


244  PREFACE  TO  THE 

by  shewing  that  they  lead  to  conclusions  very  wide  from 
the  impieties  he  would  deduce  from  them.  And  if  any 
thing  will  prevent  the  fool  from  being  wise  in  his  own 
conceit,  it  must  be  the  dishonour  and  the  ridicule  of 
having  his  own  principles  turned  against  him ;  while 
they  are  shewn  to  make  for  the  very  contrary  purpose 
to  that  for  which  he  had  employed  them. 

The  supreme  wisdom,  conveyed  in  the  two  precepts 
of  this  unravelled  paradox,  will  be  best  understood  by 
explaining  the  advantages  arising  from  the  observance 
of  each  of  them. 

IIL  We  are  not  to  answer  a  fool  according  to  his 
folly,  lest  we  also  be  like  unto  him — This  is  the 
reason  given  ;  and  a  good  one  it  is  ;  sufficient  to  make 
any  sober  man  decline  a  combat,  where  even  victory 
would  bring  dishonour  with  it.  Now,  if  our  answer 
be  of  such  a  nature  that  we  also  (though  with  contrary 
intentions)  do  injury  to  truth,  we  become  like  unto  him 
in  the  essential  part  of  his  character.  And  surely 
Truth  is  never  more  grossly  abused,  nor  its  advocates 
more  dishonoured,  than  when  they  employ  the  foolish 
arts  of  sophistry,  buffbonry,  and  scurrility,  in  its 
defence. 

i.  To  use  fallacious  and  inconclusive  arguments  in 
support  of  Truth;  is  doing  it  infinite  discredit.  The 
practice  tends  to  make  men  suspect  that  the  questioned 
Truth  is  indeed  an  imposture,  when  it  finds  support  in 
the  common  tricks  of  impostors :  the  least  unfavourable 
inference  will  be,  that  the  Truth  is  defended  not  for 
its  own  sake,  but  for  the  sake  of  the  Defender :  this 
will  make  the  serious  inquirer  less  attentive  to  the 
issue,  and  more  jealous  of  the  good  faith  of  the  ad 
vocate  ;  which  cannot  but  lessen  our  reverence  to  the 
one,  and  increase  unfavourable  prejudices  towards  the 

other. 


DOCTRINE  OF  GRACE.          245 

other.  It  tends  to  reduce  the  two  parties  of  Wisdom 
and  Folly  to  a  level ;  when  they  stand  on  the  same 
barren  and  deceitful  ground.  It  tends  to  confound  tlie 
distinction  between  true  and  false,  and  to  make  all 
terminate  in  that  most  malignant  species  of  folly,  Pyr- 
rhonic -doubt  and  uncertainty. 

2.  To  employ  Buffboiiry  in  this  service,  is  to  violate 
the  majesty  of  Truth,  which  can  inforce  its  influence 
amongst  men  no  longer  than  while  its  sanctity  of  cha 
racter  is  kept  safe  from  insult. 

Bujfoonry  deprives  Truth  of  the  only  thing  she 
wants,  in  order  to  come  off  victorious  ;  I  mean,  a  fair 
hearing.  To  examine,  Men  must  be  serious ;  and  to 
judge,  they  must  be  attentive  to  the  argument.  Buf- 
foonry  gives  a  levity  to  the  mind,  which  makes  it  seek 
entertainment  rather  than  instruction,  in  all  that  is 
offered  to  its  inspection.  But  let  this  poor  talent  be 
taken  at  its  utmost  worth,  the  use  of  it  will  still  raise 
a  suspicion,  that  the  advocate  has  his  cause  little  at 
heart,  while,  in  the  very  heat  of  an  important  contro 
versy,  he  can  allow  himself  to  be  amused  and  diverted 
by  the  levity  of  false  wit ;  since,  in  matters  that  are 
understood  to  concern  us  most,  we  are  wont  to  appear, 
as  well  as  to  be,  most  in  earnest :  and  this  scandal 
given  by  the  advocate,  will  always  do  prejudice  to  the 
cause. 

3.  Again,  personal  abuse,  that  favourite  colour  which 
glares  most  in  the  fool's  rhetoric,  is  carefully  to  be 
avoided.    For  nothing  can  so  assimilate  the  answerer 
to  the  fool  he  is  confuting,  as  a  want  of  charity,  which 
this  mode  of  defence  so  openly  betrays.     To  charity, 
the  fool  makes  no  pretensions.     His  very  attempt  is 
an  avowed  violation  of  it.     He   would  deprive  the 
world  of  what  he  himself  confesses  to  be  most  useful 

B  3  to 


246  PREFACE  TO  THE 

to  society,  and  most  pleasing  to  the  natural  sentiments 
of  man ;  that  is  to  say,  religion.  He  would  break 
down  this  barrier  against  evil,  he  would  rob  us  of  this 
consolation  of  humanity;  and  in  such  a  service  he 
follows  but  his  nature  and  his  office,  when  he  vilifies 
and  calumniates  all  who  set  themselves  to  oppose  his 
impious  projects.  But  the  end  of  the  Commandment 
is  charity. 

These  are  the  various  modes  of  answering  which 
are  to  be  avoided,  lest  the  advocate  of  religion  become 
like  the  impious  caviller  whom  he  addresses  himself  to 
confute. 

IV.  But  then,  lest  the  fool  should  be  wise  in  his  own 
conceit,  we  are,  at  tue  same  time,  bid,  to  give  him  an 
answer.  But  how  can  this  be  done,  in  the  manner 
here  directed,  namely,  according  to  his  folly,  and  yet 
the  answerer  not  become  like  unto  him,  but,  on  the 
contrary,  be  able  to  produce  the  effect  here  intimated? 
The  cure  of  the  fool's  vain  conceit  of  his  superior 
wisdom,  is  a  difficulty  indeed ;  a  difficulty  worthy  the 
advocate  of  truth  to  undertake :  and  which  a  master 
of  his  subject  may  hope  to  overcome,  in  contriving  to 
confute  the  fool  on  his  ownfoke  principles,  by  shewing 
that  they  lead  to  a  conclusion  very  opposite  to  those 
free  consequences  he  has  laboured  to  deduce  from 
them.  And  if  any  thing  will  allay  thefoofs  vain  con 
ceit  of  himself,  it  must  be  the  sense  of  such  a  dishonour. 
For  what  can  be  more  shameful  than  to  have  his  own 
principles  shewn  to  be  destructive  of  his  own  conclu 
sions  P  What  more  mortifying,  than  to  have  those 
principles,  in  whose  invention  he  so  much  gloried,  or 
in  whose  use  he  so  much  confided,  fairly  turned,  by  all 
the  rules  of  good  logic,  to  his  own  confusion  ?  Nor  is 
the  partisan  of  falsehood  more  humbled  than  the  cause 

of 


DOCTRINE  OF  GRACE.          247 

of  truth  advanced,  by  thtis  answering  a  fool  according 
to  his  folly-  For  that  victory  where  the  adversary  is 
thus  made  to  contribute  to  his  own  overthrow  is,  in 
common  estimation,  always  held  to  he  most  compleat : 
that  system  being  naturally  deemed  contemptible, 
xvhose  most  plausible  support  draws  after  it  the  ruin 
of  what  it  was  raised  to  uphold. 

And  thus,  as  the  wise  man  directs,  is  this  forward 
fool  to  be  treated ;   whether  it  be  by  silence  or  con- 
Jut  at  ion. 

V.  That,  in  general,  his  folly  is  to  be  repressed, 
according  to  the  dictates  of  true  wisdom,  the  nature  of 
the  thing  sufficiently  informs  us :  there  was  no  need  of 
a  particular  direction  to  inforce  the  expediency  and 
necessity  of  such  a  conduct.  But  then,  besides,  it 
may  sometimes  happen,  that  the  interests  of  truth  re 
quire  his  being  answered  even  according  to  his  folly : 
and,  as  our  duty  here  is  very  liable  to  abuse,  it  was 
expedient  to  obviate  the  danger.  This,  we  may  ob 
serve,  the  sacred  writer  hath  done ;  and  with  much  art 
and  elegance  of  address. 

It  may  indeed  be  said,  Why  this  practised  obliquity 
in  defence  of  truth  ?  Is  not  the  purity  of  her  nature 
rather  defiled,  than  her  real  interests  advanced  by  this 
indirection?  And  does  not  wisdom  seem  to  tell  us, 
that  it  becomes  her  dignity  to  repress  folly  by  those 
arms  only  which  wisdom  herself  hath  edged  and  tem 
pered  ;  that  truth,  by  the  information  of  her  own  light, 
points  out  the  straight  road  to  her  abode ;  and  forbids 
us  to  riggle  into  her  sacred  presence  through  by-paths, 
and  the  cloudy  medium  of  falsehood  ? 

But  they  who  talk  thus  do  not  sufficiently  refl  ct  on 
the  condition  of  our  weak  and  purblind  nature,  which 
can  ill  bear  the  bright  and  unshaded  light  of  truth.  On 

B  4  which 


248  PREFACE. 

which  account,  it  is  so  Contrived,  in  the  beautiful  order 
of  things,  that  folly,  by  thus  administering  to  her  own 
dci  .it,  should  brin<j;  us  back  again  into  the  ways  of 
wisck"n,  from  which  she  hath  seduced  us. 

The  FvEDEiMKR  of  mankind,  in  condescension  to 
the  infirmities  of  those  he  came  to  save,  hath  taken 
this  very  advantage  of  that  established  order:  for, 
more  effectually  to  silence  those  /00/s  who  questioned 
his  mission  and  his  office,  he  ansicers  them  according 
to  their  folly ;  that  is,  he  demonstrates  to  them,  on 
their  Osvn  erroneous  ideas  of  the  nature  and  end  of  the 
LAW  (formed  on  rabbinical  traditions  and  the  reveries 
of  Greek  philosophers),  he  demonstrates  to  them,  I 
say,  the  truth  an<)  reasonableness  of  the  GOSPEL.  The 
pure  and  unabated  splendor  of  truth,  ushered  in  by 
wisdom,  would  have  only  added  to  their  judicial  blind 
ness:  for  to  bear  it  undazzled,  they  had  need, of  the 
presence  of  that  SPIRIT  OF  TRUTH,  which  was  not 
yet  come,  but  only  promised  to  be  sent.  Indeed,  when 
this  sacred  guide  was  come,  and  while  he  continued  in  an 
extraordinary  manner,  to  enlighten  the  understandings 
of  the  iaithful,  there  was  no  occasion  for  this  inforced 
ministry  of  jolly,  to  contribute  to  her  own  destruc 
tion.  And  therefore  thejirst  propagators  of  the  Gospel 
proceeded  more  directly  to  the  establishment  of  the 
truth,  and  on  the  solid  principles  of  wisdom  only.  Yet 
now  again,  in  the  ordinary  communications  of  GRACE, 
this  direction  of  the  wise  man  will  be  as  useful  as  ever, 
to  the  interests  of  virtue  and  religion,  ANSWER  A  FOOL 

ACCORDING  TO  HIS  FOLLY,  LEST  HE  BE  WISE  IN 
HIS  OWN  CONCEIT. 


•   THE 


DOCTRINE    OF    GRACE; 


OR, 


THE  OFFICE  AND  OPERATIONS  OF  THE 
HOLY  SPIRIT. 


BOOK     I. 


CHAP.    I. 

TH  E  Blessed  JESUS  came  into  the  world  ON  THE 
PART  OF  GOD,  to  declare  pardon  and  salvation 
to  the  forfeited  posterity  of  Adam.     He  testified  the 
truth  of  his  Mission  by  amazing  miracles,  and  sealed 
man's  Redemption,  in  his  Blood,  by  the  more  amazing 
sacrifice  of  himself  upon  the  cross. 

But  as  the  REDEMPTION,  so  procured,  could  only 
operate  on  each  individual,  unaer  certain  conditions 
of  FAITH  and  OBEDIENCE,  very  repugnant  to  our 
corrupt  nature,  the  blessed  Redeemer,  on  leaving  the 
world,  promised  to  his  followers  his  intercession  with 
the  Father,  to  send  amongst  them  another  divine  Per 
son  ON  THE  PART  OF  MAN,  namely  the  HOLY  GHOST, 
called  the  Spirit  of  Truth,  and  the  Comforter ;  who, 
agreeably  to  the  import  of  these  attributes,  should  co 
operate  with  man  in  establishing  his  FAITH,  and  in 
perfecting  his  OBEDIENCE  ;  or,  in  other  words,  should 
sanctify  him  to  Redemption. 

This 


250  THE  DOCTRINE        [Book  I. 

This  is  a  succinct  account  oi  the  economy  of  Grace ; 
entirely  consonant  to  our  most  approved  conceptions 
of  the  Divine  nature  and  of  the  human  condition. 
For  if  man  was  to  be  reinstated  in  a  FREE- GIFT, 
which  had  been  justly  forfeited,  we  cannot  but  con 
fess,  that  as,  on  the  one  hand,  the  restoration  might 
be  made  on  what  conditions  best  pleased  the  giver ; 
so,  on  the  other,  that  God  would  graciously  provide 
that  it  should  not  be  made  in  vain. 

An  atonement,  therefore,  for  the  offended  Majesty 
of  the  FATHER,  was  first  to  be  procured;  and  this 
was  the  work  of  the  SON  :  and  then,  a  rein  dy  was  to 
be  provided  for  that  helpless  condition  of  man,  which 
hindered  the  atonement  from  producing  its  effect;  and 
this  was  the  office  of  the  HOLY  GHOST  :  so  that  both 
were  joint-workers  in  the  great  business  of  reconciling 
God  to  man. 

What  at  present  I  propose  to  consider  is,  the  Office 
and  Operations  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  as  they  are  de 
livered  to  us  in  sacred  Scripture. 

His  office  in  general  is,  as  hath  been  observed,  to 
establish  our  faith,  and  to  perfect  our  obedience,  both 
of  which  he  doth  by  ENLIGHTENING  THE  UNDER 
STANDING,  and  by  RECTIFYING  THE  WILL.  All 
this  is  necessarily  collected  from  the  words  of  Jesus, 
wnich  contain  this  important  PROMISE.  I  mil  pray 
the  Father  (says  he)  and  he  shall  give  you  another 
COMFORTER,  that  he  may  abide  with  you  for  ever ; 
even  the  SPIRIT  OF  TRUTH — He  dwetlcth  with  you, 
and  shall  be  in  you — which  is  the  HOLY  GHOST, 
#  hum  the  Father  shall  stnd  in  my  name.  He  shall 


1LACH   YOU   ALL  THINGS1*. 


Ly  teaching  us  all  things  under  the  joint  characters 
of  the  Spirit  cf  Truth  and  of  the  Comforter,  we  are 

*  John  xiv.  16,  fy  stq. 

necessarily 


Chap.  II.]  OF    GRACE.  251 

necessarily  to   understand  all  things  which  concern 

FAITH  and  OBEDIENCE. 

These  two  distinct  branches  of  his  office  I  shall 
consider  in  their  order. 


CHAP.    II. 

FIRST  of  all,  let  us  observe  the  method  employed 
by  Divine  Wisdom  in  manifesting  the  operations  of  the 
HOLY  GHOST,  as  the  SPIRIT  AND  GUIDE  OF 
TRUTH  *. 

The  first  extraordinary  attestation  of  his  descent  was 
at  the  day  of  Pentecost,  in  the  GIFT  OF  TONGUES. 

Besides  the  great  and  almost  indispensable  use  of 
this  endowment  on  the  first  disciples  of  Christ,  who 
were  to  convey  the  glad  tidings  of  the  Gospel  through 
out  the  whole  earth ;  the  elegance  and  propriety  in 
the  choice  of  this  miracle,  to  attest  the  real  descent  of 
that  Spirit  who  was  to  teach  us  all  things,  can  never 
be  enough  admired :  tor  WORDS  being  the  human 
vehicle  of  our  knowledge,  this  gift  was  the  fittest  pre 
cursor  of  the  Spirit  of  Truth. 

But  this  first  opening  scene  of  wonders,  which  was 
to  prepare  and  influence  all  their  subsequent  labours, 
a  late  eminent  Writer  would,  from  a  SIGN,  reduce  to 
a  shadow ;  in  which  he  seems  to  think,  fancy  set  itself 
on  work,  to  produce  a  prodigy.  "  The  gift  of  tongues 
"  upon  the  day  of  Pentecost  (says  the  learned  person) 
"  was  not  lasting,  but  instantaneous  and  transitory ; 
"  nor  bestowed  upon  them  for  the  constant  work  of 
"  the  ministry,  but  as  an  occasional  sign  only,  that 
"  the  person  endowed  with  it  was  a  chosen  ministe  of 
"  the  Gospel:  which  sign,  as  soon  as  it  had  served  that 

*  John  xvi.  13. 

"  particular 


2,52  THE    DOCTRINE        [Book  I. 

"  particular   purpose,    seems    to   have    ceased,    and 
"  totally  to  have  vanished*." 

Let  us  examine  now  the  grounds  of  this  new  in 
terpretation,  so  apparently  derogatory  to  the  operation 
of  the  Holy  Spirit. 

The  learned  writer  proceeds  in  order ;  first,  to  re 
duce  the  type  or  visible  sign  of  the  gift,  the  FIERY 
TONGUES  :  for  having  declared  the  gift  itself  to  be  in 
stantaneous  and  transitory,  he  has,  very  consistently, 
endeavoured  to  shew  that  the  sign  of  it  was  merely 
fanciful.  He  explains  it  to  be  no  more  than  a  sudden 
flash  of  lightning,  "  which,  he  says,  like  all  other 
"  phenomena  of  that  sort,  no  sooner  appeared,  than 
"  vanished  f." 

His  reason  for  this  opinion  is,  "  because  when  the 
"  Disciples  spoke  in  strange  tongues  to  the  multi- 
"  tude,  the  conclusion  they  drew  from  that  circum- 
"  stance  seems  to  shew,  that  the  celestial  fire  did  not, 
"  at  that  time,  sit  upon  their  heads  £." 

But  the  learned  person  has  omitted  to  bring  this 
other  circumstance  into  his  account,  that  when  the 
cloven  tongues  appeared  upon  each  of  them,  they  were 
assembled  together  in  a  private  room,  sequestered  and 
apart :  and  that  it  was  not  till  the  thing  was  noised 
abroad,  and  the  multitude  come  together,  to  inquire 
into  the  truth  of  it,  that  the  apostles  spoke  with  tongues 
as  the  Spirit  gave  them  utterance.  Now  between  this 
visible  descent  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  their  speaking 
to  the  multitude,  a  considerable  time  must  have  inter 
vened  ;  sufficient  to  convince  the  apostles,  from  the 
steady  duration  of  the  appearance,  that  it  was  not 
natural,  but  miraculous.  And  this  the  original  wrords 

*  Dr.  Middleton's  Essay  on   the  Gift  of  Tongues,  vol.  ii.  of 
his  works,  p.  79. 
t  P.  81,  |  P.  82, 

well 


Chap.  II.]  OF   GRACE.  253 

well  express :  ixa9i<r£  n  l<p*  *W  Vxaroy  auTwv,  properly 
rendered  by  the  phrase  of  SITTING  upon  each  of  than: 
words  so  inconsistent  with  a  momentary  appearance, 
that  it  would  be  trifling  with  common  sense  to  deduce 
such  an  interpretation  from  oblique  circumstances  and 
collateral  reasoning.  It  is  true  the  learned  writer  con 
cedes,  even  from  the  sign's  being  only  a  sudden  flash, 
which  vanished  almost  as  soon  as  it  appeared,  that 
"  it  indicated  something  miraculous  and  super- 
"  natural*."  But  I  am  afraid,  that  those  who  are  the 
readiest  to  embrace  his  physiology,  will  not  be  the 
first  to  admire  his  theology;  especially  as  it  is  so 
gratuitously  deduced.  It  may  therefore  not  be  im 
proper  to  consider  the  evangelical  account  of  this 
visible  descent,  with  a  little  more  exactness.'  In  this 
place  (we  see)  the  fiery  tongues  are  said,  to  sit  upon 
each  of  them  :  and  other  places  of  Scripture,  which 
mention  the  like  descent  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  visible 
form,  describe  it  in  such  terms  as  denote  a  very  diffe 
rent  appearance  from  a  sudden  flash  of  lightning. 
St.  Matthew  tells  us,  that  the  Spirit  of  God  descended 
like  a  dove,  u<rii  wtpinp*it ;  that  is,  with  a  dove-like 
motion ;  as  birds,  when  about  to  settle  upon  any 
thing,  first  hover  over  it  with  quivering  wings  :  it  then 
lighted  upon  Jesus,  ipxopwv  In  &UTOV.  So,  in  the 
place  in  question,  the  same  Spirit  is  said  to  descend 
under  the  appearance  of  cloven  tongues,  like  as  of  fire, 
urtl  Tffvpot,  In  the  former  instance,  only  the  motion 
of  the  descent  is  described  :  in  this,  both  the  motion, 
figure,  and  colour.  And  the  term  of  cloven  tongues, 
which  the  sacred  historian  employs  to  describe  the 
motion,  and  which  the  learned  writer  takes  up,  to 
prove  his  hypothesis  of  a  momentary  existence  of  the 
phenomenon,  proves  it,  in  truth,  to  be  of  some  con- 

*  P.  82. 

tinuance. 


254  THE   DOCTRINE        [Book  I. 

tinuance.  "  We  cannot  (says  he)  think  it  strange 
"  that  fire  flashing  from  Heaven,  and  suddenly  vanish- 
"  ing,  should  yield  some  resemblance  of  tongues  to 
cc  the  eyes  of  the  MULTITUDE;  for  this  is  no  more 
u  than  what  is  natural,  and  what  we  may  observe, 
"  in  some  measure,  from  every  flame  that  flashes 
"  from  the  clouds,  and  breaks  itself,  of  course,  in  a 
"  number  of  small  pointed  particles  not  remote  from 
"  that  shape  *." 

To  this,  let  us,  in  the  first  place,  observe,  that  the 
thing  seen,  u<rs\  TSTUJBO?,  on  the  heads  of  the  apostles, 
was  no  more  an  elementary  jire,  than  the  thing  seen, 
«<T£»  -srtfHrtp&Vj  on  the  head  of  Jesus,  was  a  real  dove  : 
for,  as  only  a  dove-like  motion  is  intimated  in  this 
latter  expression,  so  only  &  flame-like  motion  is  inti 
mated  in  the  former ;  and  what  this  was,  the  histo 
rian  tells  us  in  its  effect,  the  appearance  of  cloven 
tongues.  The  learned  person  is  certainly  mistaken  in 
supposing  a  sudden  flash  of  lightning  has  naturally 
the  appearance  of  cloven  tongues.  Such  a  pheno 
menon  exhibits  to  the  eye  of  the  beholder  only  a  line 
of  light  angularly  broken  into  several  directions  ;  very 
different  from  the  form  of  tongues,  whether  whole  or 
cloven.  Whenever  a  flame  assumes  this  appearance, 
it  is  become  stationary,  as  this  was,  which,  the  his 
torian  says,  SAT  upon  each  of  them,  «e«0»<r£ :  and  then 
its  natural  motion  being  upwards,  it  represents,  when 
divided  lengthwise,  a  pyramidal  or  tongue-like  figure, 
cloven  A  demonstration  that  the  appearance  in  ques 
tion  was  not  momentary,  but  of  some  continuance. 

The  learned  writer  having  thus  accounted  for  the 
precursor  of  the  gift,  comes  to  consider  the  gift  itself ; 
and  attempts  to  shew  that  "  the  chief  or  SOLE  END 
"  RATHER  of  the  gift  of  tongues  was  to  serve  as  a 

*  P.  82. 

"  sensible 


Chap.  II.]  OF   GRACE.  255 

"  sensible  sign  in  that  infirm  state  of  the  first  Chris- 
"  tians,  that  those  to  whom  it  was  vouchsafed  were 
"  under  a  divine  influence,  and  acted  by  a  divine  com- 
"  mission. — So  that  it  is  not  reasonable  to  think  that 
"  this  diversity  of  tongues  was  given  to  the  apostles 
"  for  the  sake  of  converting  those  people  before  whom 
"  they  then  spoke*."  Hence  (says  he)  "  it  appears 
"  that  the  gift  was  not  of  a  stable  or  permanent  na- 
"  ture  t»" — That  is,  it  was  no  lasting  endowment,  to 
enable  the  apostles  to  perform  their  ministry  amongst 
those  whose  language  they  had  never  learnt ;  but,  a 
momentary  power,  which  served  that  day  for  a  sign  to 
the  multituele :  and  consequently,  they  had  these  lan 
guages  to  learn  anewr  when  they  wanted  the  use  of 
them.  This,  I  say,  appears  to  be  his  inference;  for 
the  arguments  he  brings  to  support  his  principle  will 
lead  us  to  no  other.  At  the  same  time  it  must  be 
observed,  he  has  laid  down  the  proposili  m  so  loosely 
and  ambiguously,  that,  when  considered  alone,  it  may 
either  mean,  cc  that  the  power  of  speaking  strange 
languages  was  oijly  infused  occasionally,  like  ti^e 
power  of  working  miracles ;"  or  else,  e<  that  the  know 
ledge  of  the  language,  when  infused,  was  not  Idsting, 
but  momentary,  like  the  cloven  tongues;  the  inspired 
linguist  presently  falling  back  into  his  natural  state  of 
idiotisrn." 

In  the  first  sense,  the  assertion  seems  to  be  well 
founded  :  and  from  its  sobriety,  and  more  especially 
from  the  extravagance  of  the  other  meaning,  which 
leaves  but  little  distinction  between  the  power  of 
speaking  strange  tongues  at  the  day  of  Pentecost, 
and  the  ecstatic  ravings  of  modern  fanatics,  one 
would  wish  to  find  was  the  sense  we  could  fairly 
ascribe  to  it. 

*  P.  87.  t  P-  89- 

But 


156  THE   DOCTRINE        [Book  I. 

But  then  all  the  arguments  employed  by  the  learned 
person,  for  the  support  of  his  proposition,  confine  us, 
as  we  shall  now  see,  to  the  other  meaning. 

1.  His  first   argument   is  the   authority  of  some 
modern  critics*.     But  1  may  be  excused,  if  I   suffer 
these  to  have  no  more  weight  with  me  when  they  con 
tradict  a  received  interpretation,  than  they  usually  have 
with  him  when  they  confirm  it. 

2.  His  second  argument  is  an  inference  from  Scrip 
ture  itself.     "  It  appears  (he  thinks)  from  the  stories 
of  Cornelius's  family,  and  the  disciples  at  Ephesus 
(both   of  whom    spoke  with   tongues  on    the    Holy 
Ghost's  descending  on  them,  while  Peter  preached  to 
one,  and  Paul  baptized  the  other),  that  the  gift  was 
not  lasting,  but  instantaneous ;  and  given  only  for  a 
sign  of  their  real  admission  into  the  church  of  Christ:" 
for,  as  he  truly  observes,    "  here  was  no   room  to 
"  suppose  another  uce,  the  several   assemblies  being 
"  all  of  the  same  speech  and  language  f/' 

But  here  the  learned  person  from  particular  cases 
draws  a  general  inference :  because,  in  this  case,  he 
sees  no  other  use  than  for  a  sign,  he  concludes  the 
gift  to  be  momentary  in  all  other.  By  a  better  way  of 
reasoning  therefore,  he  will  suffer  us  to  conclude,  that 
where  we  do  see  another  use,  as  in  the  gift  at  Pentecost, 
that  there  it  was  as  lasting  as  the  use  to  which  it 
served :  and  an  equitable  judge  will  conclude  for  us 
both,  that  the  same  endowment  which  in  one  instance 
was  transitory,  might,  in  another,  last  for  life. 

The  converts  of  the  family  of  Cornelius,  and  the 
disciples  at  Ephesus,  were  in  a  private  station  in  the 
church :  so  that  an  instantaneous  exercise  of  the  power 

*  P.  89.  t  P.  85,  86. 

fully 


Chap.  III.]  OF   GRACE. 

fully  answered  its  end  :  it  was  a  srg/i  that  these  con 
verts  were  indeed  become  members  of  Christ's  mysti 
cal  body,  the  church,  as  well  by  the  baptism  of  the 
Spirit  as  of  Water.  But  the  case  was  different  with 
respect  to  the  apostles :  they  were  the  appointed 
preachers  of  the  Gospel  to  remote  and  barbarous  na 
tions  :  an  office  not  to  be  discharged  without  a  com 
petent  knowledge  of  the  various  languages  of  the  earth. 
We  find  them,  on  the  day  of  Pentecost,  miraculously 
endowed  with  this  knowledge.  What  are  we  to  think, 
but  that  the  PRINCIPAL  end  of  the  gift  was  to  qualify 
them  for  their  mission  ? 

3.  The  learned  writer's  third  argument  in  support 
of  his  opinion,  is  taken  from  the  style  of  Scripture, 
and  is  to  this  purpose  :  "  that  were  the  gift  of  tongues 
lasting,  it  would  have  been  employed  in  the  composi 
tion  of  their  gospels  and  epistles  :  but  that  it  was  not 
there  employee?,  appears  from  the  barbarity  of  the 
style ;  since  whatever  comes  from  God  must  be  per 
fect  in  i^s  kind ;  so  that,  in  this  case,  we  should  be 
sure  to  find  the  purity  of  Plato,  and  the  eloquence  of 
Cicero."  But  the  consideration  of  this  argument 
coming  more  propeily  under  another  head  of  this 
discourse,  for  that  we  shall  reserve  it;  and  might  here 
take  leave  of  this  subject,  (he  duration  of  the  gift  of 
twigifts ;  as  the  common  opinion  remains  unimpaired 
by  his  attack,  and  is  still  in  possession  of  all  the  cir 
cumstances  of  credit  in  which  he  found  it. 


CHAP.    III. 


YET  since  this  new  interpretation  (which  makes 
the  gift  so  transitory,  and  the  power  conferred  by  it 
so  momentary]  may  be  applied  by  licentious  men  to 

VOL.  VIII.  S  purposes 


258  THE   DOCTRINE         [Book  I. 

purposes  the  learned  person  might  never  intend,  it 
cannot  be  too  carefully  considered. 

Who  hath  not  heard  of  the  wondrous  powers  of  the 
imagination,  when  raised  and  inflamed  by  fanaticism  ? 
and  though  we  be  ignorant  of  its  utmost  force,  yet  we 
know  enough  of  it  to  convince  us,  that  this  faculty  of 
the  mind,  the  nurse  and  parent  of  enthusiasm,  is  able 
to  put  on  every  form  of  preternatural  semblance. 
There  are  many  well-attested  cases  in  modern  history 
(although  we  should  agree  that  they  have  lost  nothing 
of  the  marvellous  in  the  telling),  where  enthusiasts,  in 
their  ecstasies,  have  talked  very  fluently  in  the  learned 
languages,  of  which  they  had  a  very  imperfect  know 
ledge  in  their  sober  intervals.  "  When  I  saw  (says- 
"  the  noble  author  of  the  Characteristics)  the  gen- 
"  tleman,  who  has  writ  lately  in  defence  of  revived 
"  prophecy  (and  has  since  fallen  himself  into  the 
"  prophetic  ecstasies)  lately  under  an  agitation  (as 
"  they  call  it)  uttering  prophecy  in  a  pompous  Latin 
"  style,  of  which  out  of  his  ecstasy,  it  seems,  he  is 
"  wholly  incapable,  it  brought  into  my  mind  the 
"  Latin  poet's  description  of  the  Sibyl  *,"  £c.  And 
it  is  remarkable,  that  instances  of  this  kind  have  oc 
curred  so  frequently,  that  Thyrasus,  a  famous  Popish 
exorcist,  as  blinded  as  he  was  by  the  superstitious 
impiety  of  demoniacal  possessions,  has,  in  his  Direc 
tory,  expressly  declared  it  to  be  the  common  opinion 
of  his  brotherhood,  that  the  speaking  strange  languages 
is  no  certain  sign  of  a  possession,  and  warns  the  exor 
cist  against  this  illusion  f. 

Now  were  it  generally  believed  that  I  lie  speaking 
with  strange  tongues  in  the  first  ages  of  Christianity, 
was  a  mere  fleeting,  transitory  power,  the  bold  licence  of 

*  Letter  concerning  Enthusiasm,  §  6. 
t  De  Dsemoniacis,  c.  xxii. 

our 


Chap.  III.]  OP    GRACE.  259 

our  times  would  be  ready  to  conclude  that  it  was  much 
of  the  same  kind  with  these  feats  of  modern  fanatics. 
For  let  us  consider  how  the  matter  would  be  thought 
to  stand,  on  the  representation  of  this  learned  writer : 
a  sudden  flash  of  lightning,  under  the  fancied  figure  of 
cloven  tongues,  kindles  the  fiery  imaginations  of  a 
number  of  enthusiastic  men,  met  together  in  a  tumul 
tuary  assembly,  and  inflaming  one  another's  fanaticism 
by  mutual  collision ;  and  in  this  temper,  they  began  to 
speak  with  tongues  as  the  Spirit  gave  them  utterance. 

I  shall  therefore  endeavour  to  shew,  in  the  last  place, 
that  this  new  interpretation  contradicts  what  SCRIP 
TURE  itself  expressly  delivers  of  the  USE,  and,  by  neces* 
sary  inference,  of  the  duration  of  this  gift  of  tongues 
on  the  day  of  Pentecost. 

The  learned  writer  affirms,  "  that  this  knowledge 
was  transitory,  serving  only  for  an  occasional  sign8  and 
not  intended  for  the  use  of  the  apostolic  mission." 
Now  Jesus  himself  tells  us,  that  it  was  intended  for 
this  use :  who,  on  his  leaving  the  world,  comforts  his 

disciples  with  this  promise : But  ye  shall  receive 

POWER,  after  that  the  Holy  Ghost  is  come  upon  you: 
and  ye  shall  be  WITNESSES  unto  me,  unto  the  UTTER 
MOST  PART  OF  THE  EARTH  *,  recorded  by  the  evan* 
gelic  writer,  as  an  introduction  to  his  narrative  of  the 
miraculous  gift  of  tongues ;  which  he  considers  as  the 
completion  of  this  promise;  and  that  the  power  to  be 
received,  was  the  power  then  given:  the  use  of  which, 
as  we  see,  was  to  enable  the  disciples  to  become  wit- 
nexses  unto  him,  unto  the  uttermost  part  oj  the  earth. 
^Ve  find  St.  Paul  had  this  power,  not  only  in  the  fullest 
measure,  but  in  a  proportionable  duration;  for,  endea 
vouring  to  moderate  the  excessive  value  which  the 
Corinthians  set  upon  spiritual  gtjts,  he  observes,  that, 

*  Acts  i.  8. 

s  2  with 


260  THE    DOCTRINE         [Book  I. 

with  regard  to  the  most  splendid  of  them,  the  gift  of 
tongues,  he  himself  had  the  advantage  of  them  all — • 
/  thank  my  God  (says  he)  that*  I  speak  with  tongues 
more  than  you  all  *.  The  occasion  shews  that  he  con 
sidered  this  his  acquirement  as  a  spiritual  gift :  and 
his  using  the  present  time,  shews  that  he  boasted  of  it 
as  then  in  his  possession.  But  why  did  he  speak  with 
more  tongues  than  all  of  them  ?  For  a  good  reason  ; 
he  was  the  peculiar  apostle  of  the  Gentiles ;  and  was 
to  preach  the  Gospel  amongst  remote  and  barbarous 
nations.  Whom  then  shall  we  believe  ?  Shall  we  take 
his  word  who  promised  the  gift;  shall  we  take  his,  on 
whom  it  was  bestowed  ;  or  shall  we  prefer  to  both,  the 
conjectures  of  this  learned  and  ingenious  modern  ? 
Would  reason  or  the  truth  of  thing's  suffer  us  to  !»*: 

o 

so  compliant,  we  might  concede  to  unbelievers  all 
which  they  fancy  the  learned  writer  hath  procured  for 
them,  "  that  the  power  of  tongues  was  temporary,  and, 
like  the  power  of  healing,  possessed  occasionally/' 
without  being  alarmed  at  any  consequence  they  will  be 
able  to  deduce  from  it.  For  let  it  but  be  granted  (and 
'they  must  grant  it,  or  prevaricate)  that  the  gift  of 
tongues  returned  as  often  as  they  had  occasion  for  it ; 
and  it  is  no  great  matter  where  the  power  resided  in 
the  mean  time. 

But  neither  reason  nor  the  truth  of  things  will  suffer 
us  to  be  thus  compliant.  The  power  of  healing  or  of 
working  miracles  (to  which  the  learned  writer  compare* 
the  gift  of  tongues)  is,  during  the  whole  course  of  its 
operation,  one  continued  arrest  or  diversion  of  the 
general  laws  of  matter  und  motion :  it  was  therefore 
fitting  that  this  power  should  be  given  occasionally. 
But  the  speaking  with  tongues,  when  once  the  gift  was 
conferred,  became,  from  thenceforth,  a  natural  power ; 

*   l  Cor.  xiv.  18. — /x,«X?koir  yA«W«K  XaAwr. 

just 


Chap.  IV.]  OF    GRACE.  261 

just  as  the  free  and  perfect  use  of  the  members  of  the 
body,  afbr  they  have  been  restored,  by  miracle,  to 
the  exercise  of  their  natural  functions.  Indeed,  to  have 
lost  the  i;ift  of  tongues  after  this  temporary  use  of  it, 
would  imply  another  miracle ;  for  it  must  have^  been 
by  actual  deprivation,  unless  we  suppose  the  apostles 
mere  irrational  organs  through  which  divine  sounds 
were  conveyed.  In  a  word,  it  was  as  much  in  the 
course  of  nature  for  an  apostle,  whom  the  Holy  Spirit 
on  the  day  of  Pentecost  had  enabled  to  speak  a  strange 
language,  ever  afterwards  to  have  the  use  of  that 
language,  as  it  was  for  the  cripple,  whom  Jesus  had 
restored  to  the  use  of  his  limbs  on  the  Sabbath-day, 
ever  afterwards  to  walk,  run,  and  perform  all  trie 
functions  of  a  man  perfectly  sound  and  whole.  In 
one  thing,  indeed,  the  power  of  healing,  and  of  speak 
ing  with  strange  tongues  coincided ;  as  the  disciples 
could  not  heal  at  all  times,  so  neither  could  they  apeak 
at  all  times  in  what  unknown  dialect  they  should 
choose  to  converse :  Yet  when  ouce,  by  the  Holy 
Spirit,  they  had  been  enabled  to  speak  and  uuderstdnd 
a  language,  they  could  not  but  retain  the  use  of  it, 
with  the  same  facility  as  if  they  had  acquired  it  in  the 
ordinary  way  of  instruction.  But  the  confusion  in  this 
affair,  and  the  learned  person's  enibarras  when  he  states 
the  question,  arise  from  not  distinguishing  in  these  two 
cases,  between  the  active  power  and  the  pa^icf.  gift. 
In  healing,  the  apostles  are  to  be  considered  as  the 
workers  of  a  miracle;  in  speaking  strange  tongues,  as 
the  persons  on  whom  a  miracle  is  performed. 


CHAP.    IV. 

THUS  far  with  regard  to  this  extraordinary  descent 
of  the  Holy  Ghost,  as  the  GUIDE  OF  TRUTH.     And 

s  3  this 


262  THE    DOCTRINE         [Book I. 

this  being  as  well  the  FIRST  FRUITS  as  the  TYPE  and 
SEAL  of  all  in-spircd  kno:*  ledge,  the  sacred  h^torian 
thought  proper  to  give  us  a  circumstantial  relation  of 
so  important  an  adventure. 

The  other  endowments  from  the  Spirit  of  truth  he 
hath  mentioned  only  occasionally.  So  that,  had  not 
the  subject  of  one  of  St.  Paul's  epistles  led  the  writer 
to  enumerate  tho-e  various  gifts,  a>  they  were  after 
wards  distributed  amongst  the  faithful,  we  should  have 
had  a  very  imperfect  knowledge  of  their  whole  extent. 
The  church  of  Corinth  was  foolishly  elated  by  spiritual 
pride;  which  St.  Paul  endeavoured  to  mortify  and  hum 
ble  :  and  in  applying  his  remedy,  he  begins  with  reck 
oning  up  those  various  graces,  the  credit  of  which  they 
had  abused,  by  their  indulgence  of  this  unhappy  tem 
per — Concerning  spiritual  gifts  (says  he)  I  would  not 
hare  you  ignorant,  ^'oic  there  are  dreeriitie*  of  gifts, 
but  the  same  Spirit.  To  one  is  given  by  the  Spirit,  the 
-WORD  OF  WISDOM;  to  another)  the  WORD  OF  KNOW 
LEDGE  by  the  fame  Spirit]  to  another,  the  GIFTS  OF 
HEALING  by  the  same  Spirit]  to  another,  WORKING 
OF  MIRACLES;  to  another,  PROPHECY;  to  another^ 
DISCERNING  OF  SPIRITS*.  And  when  he  comes  to 
apply  his  premisses,  and  to  shew  the  inferiority  of  all 
these  gifts  to  charity,  he  recapitulates  the  most  dis 
tinguished  of  them  in  the  following  manner: — though 
I  have  the  gift  of  PROPHECY,  and  understand  all 
MYSTERIES,  and  alt  KNOWLEDGE  :  and  though  I  have 
all  FAITH  so  that  I  could  remove  mountains,  and  have 
mt  charity,  I  am  nothing^. 

In  explaining  the  nature  of  these  gifts,  the  two  pas 
sages  will  afford  light  to  one  another. 

The  first  he  mentions,  is  the  WORD  OF  WISDOM  ;£. 
By  which,  I  think,  we  must  understand,  all  the  great 

*  i  Cor.  xii.  J,  &  seq.         f  Ib.  xiii,  <2.        J  Aoy«?  c-tpW 

principles 


Chap.  IV.]  OF    GRACE. 

prmdftes  ef  uatvral  rOgp***.  Tbe  anckafe  used 
the  term  in  this  seise;  and  we  can  hardly  give  k 
another,  in  the  place  before  us,  where  we  see  k  dk- 

iished  from  the  WORD  OF  DTOWIXDGE  f,  which 
foHows,  and  evidently  means  aU  the  great  prmapU* 
of  the  reveefal;  the*  term  r*"*;  being  as  peculiarly 
applied  by  m  writers  to  revealed  Retigwo^, 

as  r»e**  b  bv  i  i,  to  natural:  and  k  is  no  less 

.     _     ..-.:.'.:    . 

:  chapter,  with  one  of  ks  spfdes, — ail  MTSTE»T 
and  att  kmotcledge:  for  myatery  n  that  part  of  hwr- 
ledge  which  regards  the  interpretataon  of  soch  Jewish 
prophecies  as  concern  the  mcsp  dafouatim.  In  a 
word,  ourapofcde,  speaking  m  another  place  of  Christ, 
who  perfected  Rezdation,  baft  (from  ks  first  deSvery 
and  rjdimeots)  on  natural  VeGgiim,  uses  the  two 
terms  in  these  assigned  significations — In  zrkcm  (sap 
he)  are  kid  all  the  treatxres  ^WISDOM  and 


FAITH,  we  see,  b  leckooed 

ae  ward,  OJ.  IT.  5.    '£» 


_-   -     ...     -,    . 
csioi£j,  lp&aa*Ljm 


904  THE   DOCTRINE  [Book  L 

amongst  the  gifts  of  the  Spirit  :  and  in  the  following 
chapter,  where  these  graces  are  again  mentioned,  ho 
explains  its  nature  to  us,  in  calling  it  a  Faith  which 
Widd  remove  mountain?,,  or  such  a  Faith  as  was  at 
tended  with  the  power  of  controlling  nature;  alluding 
to  that  want,  with  which  Jesus  upbraids  his  disciples, 
\vhere  he  says,  —  had  ye  Faith  as  a  grain  of  mustard- 
seed,  ye  should  say  unto  this  mountain,  Remove  hence 
into  yonder  place,  and  it  shall  remove  *. 

The  two  next  gilts,  of  HEALING  and  WORKING 
MIRACLES,  are  two  specieses  of  the  foregoing  genus. 
By  healing  is  meant  that  salutary  assistance  adminis 
tered  to  the  sick,  in  a  solemn  office  of  the  church,  as 
directed  by  St.  James  f  :  and  by  working  miracles,  a 
more  private  and  extemporaneous  exercise  of  the  same 
power,  though  less  confined  in  its  objects  ;£. 

PROPHECY,  which  follows,  plainly  signifies,  fore 
telling  the  future  fortunes  of  the  church,  to  the  comfort 
and  edification  (as  St.  Paul  expresses  it)  of  the  assem 
bly.  He  that  pnopiiESfETH  speakcth  unto  men,  la 
edification,  and  exhortation,  and  comfort  §.  And  these 
effects,  generally  attending  the  aet  of  Prophecy,  in  a 
little  time  assumed  its  name  ||.  But  the  proper  sense 
of  Prophecy,  and  that  iq  which  it  is  to  be  understood 

*  Matt!  xvii.  20. 

•f  Is  amj  sick  a?nong  you?  let  him  call  for  the  Elders  of  the 

Church  ;  and  let  them  pray  over  him,  anointing  him  with  oil  in  the 

name  of  the  Lord;  and  the  prayer  cf  Faith  [i.  e.  the  fait'h  men 

tioned  just  before]  shall  save  the  sick,  and  tlic  Lord  shall  raise  him 

.  up.     Gen.  Epist.  chap,  v-  14. 

J  The  xot^cpula,  la./.»ru}v  properly  expresses  gifts  belonging  to 
the  Church  as  such,  and  ly^yvpcAi*  ovtaptat  implies  virtue  residing 
in  the  individual  or  particular  Agent.  Besides  we-may-okservc, 
IO.IA.O.TUI  was  a  less  degree  of  miraculous  power  than  the 
f,  and  is  expressly  intimate^  so  to  be,  rtr.  28.  — 


^iCor.xiv.3.        ||  AsRom.xii,  6.    iCor.xiii.g.   xiv.i.24. 


Chap.  IV.]  OF    G  R  A  C  E.  265 

in  this  place,  is  \\ieforctdling  things  to  come;  "which 
Jesus  himself  declares  to  be  one  essential  part  of  the. 
office  of  the  Holy  Spirit,    llowbcit,  when  the  Spirit  of 
truth  is  come,  Hewitt  guide  you  into  all  truth — and  he 

U'ili  SHEW    YOU    THINGS    TO    COME*. 

The  last  of  these  gilts,  in  the  order  of  things,  a$ 
-well  as  in  the  apostle's  enumeration  of  them,  is  the 
DISCERNING  OF  SPIRITS.  The  reputation  attending 
the  exercise  of  these  extraordinary  endowments  would 
be  a  strong  temptation  to  impostors  to  mimic  and  belie 
their  powers ;  as  \\c  see  it  was  in  the  case  of  Simon 
the  Magician.  It  graciously  pleased  the  Holy  Spirit, 
therefore,  amidst  the  bounty  of  these  gifts,  to  bestow 
one,  whose  property  it  was  to  bring  all  the  others  to 
the  test  f,  by  the  virtue  which  the  possessor  of  it  had, 
of  distinguishing  between  true  and  false  inspiration, 
where  accidental  ambiguity  or  designed  imposture  had 
made  the  matter  doubtful  or  suspected. 

These  gifts,  St.  Paul  tells  us,  were  severally  distri 
buted  amongst  the  Faithful.  But  tiie  apostles  them 
selves,  as  Scripture  leads  us  to  conclude,  had  them  all 
in  conjunction ;  exercised  them  in  fuller  measure ;  sup 
ported  them  by  additional  revelations  J ;  and  (as  hath 

*   John  xvi.   13. — x^    r»    ig%optist    atstfyifat1    I'^v. 

•\  o*ax£icn<;  tmviAUTav — J»axg»jrK  is  used  in  other  places  iu  this 
signification  —  ^n  tl<;  hctxf'urtK  iMAiyf^juSfi  Rom.  -xiv.  i. —  -nr^oj 
&axptffip  xaXu  TI  xj  xaxS,  I  leb.  v.  14.— x>£f/xaTa;v,  of  Spirits  or 
divine  nfHations.  And  £0  the  Author  uses  it,  a  little  after,  «W/*aiU 

,    C.  XIV.  32. 

J  Now,  Brethren^  If  I  come  unto  you  speaking  with  tongucx, 
shall  I  profit  you,  except  I  skull  speak  unto  you  nthtr  by 
RrvELATiox,  or  by  kiiniclccfgc,  or  by  prophesying ,  or  by  doctrine, 
1  Cor.  xiv.  6.  And  this  additional  gift  of  Revelation,  which  con 
veyed  the  further  knowledge  o-f  God's  will  in  the  Gospel,  seems 
properly  to  have  been  appropriated  to  the  Apostles,  with  design 
to  dignify  their  office. 

been 


266  THE    DOCTRINE          [Book  I. 

been  proved  of  one  of  them  at  least)  possessed  them 
by  a  more  lasting  title. 

But,  for  a  fuller  account  of  their  nature  and  their 
use,  we  must  have  recourse  to  SCRIPTURE  itself,  which 
contains  the  history  of  their  various  fruits.  And  as 
the  richest  of  these  fruits  is  the  INSPIRATION  OF 
SCRIPTURE  itself,  I  shall  select  this  for  the  subject  of 
what  I  have  further  to  say  of  the  primitive  operations 
of  the  Holy  Spirit;  especially  as  this  hath,  in  these 
latter  times,  been  called  in  question. 


C  H  A  P.     V. 

WE  may  observe,  that  the  Ministry  of  the  Apostles 
consisted  of  these  two  parts  :  (i.)  The  temporary  and 
occasional  instructions  of  those  Christians  whom  they 
had  brought  to  the  knowledge  of,  and  faith  in,  Jesus, 
the  Messiah  :  (2.)  and  the  care  of  composing  a  WRIT 
TEN  RULE  for  the  direction  of  the  Church  throughout 
all  ages.  Now  it  being  granted,  because,  by  the  his 
tory  of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  it  may  be  proved,  that 
they  were  divinely  inspired  in  the  discharge  of  the  tem 
porary  part ;  it  must  be  very  strong  evidence  indeed 
which  can  induce  an  unprejudiced  man  to  suspect,  that 
they  were  left  to  themselves  in  the  execution  of  the 
other.  Their  preaching  could  only  profit  their  contem 
poraries  :  For  instructions  conveyed  to  future  ages  by 
tradition  are  soon  lost  and  forgotten ;  or,  what  is  worse, 
polluted  and  corrupted  with  fables.  It  is  reasonable 
therefore  to  think,  that  the  .church  was  provided  with 
a  WRITTEN  RULE.  The  good  providence  of  God  hath 
indeed  made  this  provision.  And  the  Scriptures  of 
the  New  Testament  have  been  received  by  all  the 
Faithful,  as  divine  Oracles,  as  the  inspired  dictates  of 
the  Hqly  Spirit ;  till  superstition  extending  the  notion 

of 


Chap.  V.]  OF    GRACE.  167 

of  inspiration  to  an  extravagant  length,  over-cautious 
Believers  joined  with  Libertines,  who  had  taken  advan 
tage  of  the  others'  folly,  to  deny  or  bring  in  question 
all  inspiration  whatever.  For  extremes  beget  each 
other ;  and  when  thus  begotten,  they  are  suffered,  in 
order  to  preserve  the  balance  of  the  moral  system,  as 
frequently  to  support  as  to  destroy  one  another ;  that, 
while  they  subsist,  each  may  defeat  the  mischiefs  which 
the  other  threatens ;  and  when  they  fall,  both  of  them 
may  fall  together. 

I  shall  therefore  take  upon  me  to  expose  the  extra 
vagance  of  either  lolly ;  and  then  endeavour  to  settle 

the  TRUE    NOTION   OF    SCRIPTURE  INSPIRATION. 

i .  We  have  seen  how  fully  gifted  the  apostles  were 
for  the  business  of  their  mission.  They  worked  mira 
cles,  they  spake  with  tongues,  they  explained  mysteries, 
they  interpreted  prophecies,  they  discerned  the  true 
from  the  false  pretences  to  the  Spirit :  And  all  this, 
for  the  temporary  and  occasional  discharge  of  their 
ministry.  Is  it  possible  then,  to  suppose  them  to  be 
deserted  by  their  divine  Inlightener  when  they  sat 
down  to  the  other  part  of  their  work ;  to  frame  a  rule 
for  the  lasting  service  of  the  church  ?  Can  we  believe 
that  that  Spirit,  which  so  bountifully  assisted  them  in 
their  assemblies,  had  withdrawn  himself  when  they  re 
tired  to  their  private  oratories :  or  that  when  their 
speech  was  with  all  power,  their  writings  should  con 
vey  no  more  than  the  weak  and  fallible  dictates  of 
human  knowledge?  To  suppose  the  endowments  of 
the  Spirit  to  be  so  capriciously  bestowed,  would  make 
it  look  more  like  a  mockery  than  a  gift.  And,  to  believe 
all  this  would  be  a  harder  task  than  what  (the  Deist 
tells  us)  religious  credulity  imposes  on  us.  No  candid 
man  therefore  will  be  backward  to  conclude,  that  what 

powers 


268  T  H  E   D  O  C  T  R I  N  E         [Book  I, 

powers  the  apostles  had  for  the  temporary  use  of  their 
Ministry,  they  had,  at  least  in  as  large  a  measure,  for 
the  perpetual  service  of  the  church. 

2.  St.  Paul,  where  he  recommends  the  study  of  the 
Scriptures  of  the  Old  Testament,  to  Timothy,  expressly 
declares  them  to  be  INSPIRED,  in  that  general  propo 
sition,  AIL  Scripture  is  giocn  by  inspiration  of  God*. 
Now  if  in  the  Mosaic  dispensation,  the  written  rule 
was  given  by  inspiration  of  God,  where  the  church 
was  conducted  in  every  step,  at  first  by  oracular  res 
ponses,  and  afterwards  by  a  long  series  and  continued 
succession  of  Prophets ;  and  all  this  under  an  extra 
ordinary  administration  of  Providence,  such  as  might 
well  seem  to  supersede  the  necessity  of  a  scriptural  in 
spiration  ;  how  confidently  may  we  conclude,  that  the 
same  divine  Goodness  would  give  the  INFALLIBLE 
GUIDE  of  an  inspired  Scripture  to  the  Christian  Church, 
where  the  miraculous  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit  is 
supposed  to  have  ceased  with  the  apostolic  ages,  and 
where  the  administration  of  Providence  is  only  ordi 
nary  ?  Nor  can  it  be  said,  that  what  St.  Paul  predi 
cates  of  Scripture  must  be  confined  to  the  LAW  (whose 
very  name  indeed  implies  inspiration),  and  what  is 
prefatory  to  it :  since  the  largeness  of  his  terms,  all 
Scripture,  extends  to  the  whole  canon  of  the  Old 
Testament,  as  then  received  by  the  t\vo  churches. 
And  this  general  expression  was  the  more  expedient, 
as  the  historic  writings  did  not  either  by  their  nature, 
like  the  Prophetic,  or  by  their  name,  like  the  Legal, 
necessarily  imply  their  coming  immediately  from  God. 
The  Canonical  books  of  the  OLD  Testament,  therefore, 
being  inspired,  Reason  directs  us  to  expect  the  same 
quality  in  the  NEW.  And,  as  in  the  Old,  amongst 

*  2  Tim,  iii.  16. 

several 


Chap.  V.]  O  F    G  R  A  C  E.  269 

several  occasional  writings,  there  was  the  fundamental 
record,  or  the  GREAT  CHARTER  of  the  Pentateuch; 
and  in  the  \rolumes  of  the  Prophets,  the  Oracular  pre 
dictions  of  the  future  fortunes  of  the  Church  to  the 
rriiST  coming  of  the  Messiah  ;  so,  in  the  New,  there 
is,  besides  the  occasional  Epistles,  the  authentic 
Record  or  GREAT  CHARTER  of  the  Gospel-Covenant; 
and  in  the  Revelations  of  St.  John,  the  same  divine 
predictions  continued  to  the  SECOND  coming  of  the 
Saviour  of  the  world. 

3.  The  reason  of  the  thing  likewise  supports  us  in 
concluding  for  this  inspiration.  An  universal  Rule  of 
human  conduct  implies  as  unlimited  an  obedience  : 
the  nature  of  such  a  Rule  requiring  it  to  be  received 
entire ;  and  to  be  observed  in  every  article.  But 
when  once  it  is  supposed  to  come  to  us,  though  from 
heaven,  yet  not  immediately,  but  through  the  canal 
of  an  uninspired  instrument,  liable  to  error  both  in 
the  receiving  and  in  the  dispensing  of  it,  men  would 
be  perpetually  tempted  to  own  just  as  much  as,  and 
no  more  than,  they  liked  to  believe,  or  were  disposed 
to  practise ;  and  to  reject  the  rest  as  a  mere  human 
imposition.  Nay  the  very  reasons  which  the  v/riters 
against  this  inspiration  give  us,  why  it  is  not  afforded, 
seem  to  shew  the  necessitw.bv  it  should:  such  as  the 

^  -j 

imperfect  knowledge  that  the  Apostles  had  of  the 
genius  of  Christianity;  their  disputes  and  differences 
with  one  another ;  their  mistakes  in  matters  of  easy 
prevention,  though  of  little  consequence,  £c.  For  if 
the  composers  of  a  Rule  of  Faith  for  the  universal 
Church  were  thus  naturally  defective  in  historic  and 
religious  knowledge,  Whut  security  could  we  have 
for  their  not  misleading  us  in  things  of  moment,  unless 
prevented  by  the  guard  and  guidance  of  the  Holy 

Spirit, 


270  THE    DOCTRINE        [Book  I. 

Spirit,  "while  they  engaged  themselves  in  this  important 
task  ? 

I  am  enough  sensible  of  the  weakness  and  folly  of 
that  kind  of  reasoning  which  concludes  from  right  to 
fact ;  and  assumes,  that  because  a  thing  is  imagined 
to  be  expedient,  useful,  or  necessary  in  God's  moral 
Government,  that  therefore  he  hath  indeed  made  pro 
vision  for  it.  Thus  the  Papal  Doctors,  in  their  argu 
ments  for  the  standing  power  of  Miracles  and  the 
appointment  of  an  infallible  guide ',  having  endeavoured 
to  shew  that  the  first  is  necessary  for  those  without) 
and  the  second  for  those  within,  would  draw  us  to 
conclude  with  them,  that  the  true  church  hath,  in 
fact,  the  exercise  and  use  of  MIRACLES  and  INFALLI 
BILITY. 

But  the  cases  are  widely  different.  It  is  by  no  means 
agreed,  that  the  Church,  after  the  apostolic  ages,  was 
in  the  possession  of  so  large  a  portion  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  as  to  enable  either  this  pretended  HEAD,  or  its 
MEMBERS,  to  exert  the  powers  in  question:  Whereas 
it  is  confessed  by  all,  that  at  the  time  these  Scrip 
tures  were  written,  the  composers  of  them  were  di 
vinely  inspired  for  the  occasional  work  of  the  ministry : 
and  the  only  question  in  dispute  is,  whether  that  Spirit 
which  aided  them  in  defending  the  Gospel  before  the 
tribunals  of  Kings  and  Magistrates  * — in  working  mi 
racles  before  the  multitude  of  Unbelievers — and  in 
prophesying  and  explaining  mysteries  to  the  assemblies 
of  the  faithful — whether  this  Spirit,  1  say,  did  accom 
pany,  or  desert  them,  when  they  retired  within  them- 

*  And  "when  they  bring  you  unto  the  Synagogues,  and  unto  Af«- 
gistrntes  and  Powers,  take  ye  no  thought  how  or  what  thing  ye  shall 
answer,  or  u'hat  ye  shall  say  :  for  the  Holy  Ghost  shall  teach  you 
in  the  same  hour  what  ye  ought  to  say.  Luke  xii.  11,  12. 

selves, 


Chap.  V.]  OF    GRACE.  271 

selves,  to  compose  a  RULE  OF  FAITH  for  the  per 
petual  service  of  the  Church  ? 

4.  But,  lastly,  we  have  the  clear  testimony  of  Scrip 
ture  for  this  inspiration.  And  though  the  bearing 
witness  to  itself*  might  be  reasonably  objected  in  an 
argument  addressed  to  Unbelievers,  yet  being  here 
info  reed  against  such  of  the  faithful  who  doubt  or 
hesitate  concerning  the  inspiration  of  the  New  Testa 
ment,  it  hath  all  the  propriety  we  can  desire. 

I  venture  therefore  to  say,  that  St.  Paul,  in  the 
general  proposition  quoted  above,  which  affirms  that 
alt  Scripture  is  given  by  inspiration  of  God  f ,  ne 
cessarily  includes  the  scriptures  in  question ;  what  it 
predicates  of  alt  Scripture  taking  in  the  new  as  well  as 
old;  as  well  that  which  was  to  be  written,  as  that 
which  \vas  already  collected  into  a  canon.  For  the 
term,  Scripture,  as  the  context  leads  us  to  under 
stand  it,  is  general,  and  means  a  religious  rule,  per 
fect  in  its  direction,  for  the  conduct  of  human  life, 
in  belief  and  practice :  it  being  under  this  idea  that 
he  recommends  the  Scriptures  to  Timothy.  The 
assertion  therefore  is  universal,  and  amounts  to  this, 
"  That  divine  inspiration  is  an  essential  quality  of 
every  Scripture,  which  constitutes  the  LAW  or  RULE 
of  a  religion  coming  from  God/* 

On  the  whole  then,  we  conclude,  that  all  the  Scrip 
tures  of  the  Ne:v  Testament  were  given  by  inspiration 
of  God.  And  thus  the  prophetic  promise  of  our 
blessed  Master,  that  the  Comforter  should  abide  with 
us  for  ever,  was  eminently  fulfilled.  For  though,  ac 
cording  to  the  promise,  his  ordinary  influence  occa 
sionally  assists  the  faithful  of  all  ages,  yet  his  constant 

*  If  I  bear  witness  of  wysclf,  my  witness  is  not  true.  John  v.  31. 

.C, 

abode 


272  THE    DOCTRINE         [Book  L 

abode  and  supreme  illumination  is  in  the  sacred  Scrip* 
tures  of  the  New  Testament** 

*  The  kite  Mr.  William  Law,  \vho  obscured  a  good  under-* 
standing  by  the  fumes  of  the  rankest  enthusiasm,  and  depraved  a 
stand  judgment,  still  further,  by  the  prejudices  he  took  up  against 
all  sobriety  in  religion,  seized  the  above  paragraph,  as  lie  found 
it  detached  from  the  discourse  in  a  quotation  made  of  it,  by  an 
ingenious  writer;  and  thus  descants  upon  it :  "  Dr.  Warburton's 
"  doctrine  is  this,  that  the  inspired  books  of  the  New  Testament 
"  is  the  Comforter  or  Spirit  of  truth  and  Illuminator,  \vhich  is 
•'  meant  by  Christ's  being  always  with  the  Church.  Let  us 
"  therefore  put  the  Doctor's  doctrine  into  the  letter  of  the  text, 
"  which  will  best  show  how  true  or  false  it  is.  Christ  saith,  If 
"  any  man  love  me,  ?ny  Father  will  loi'c  him,  and  we  will  come  unto 
(l  him,  and  make  our  abode  tilth  him.  That  is,  according  to  the 
"  Doctor's  theology,  certain  books  of  Scripture  will  come  to  him, 
"  and  make  their  abode  with  him  ;  for  he  expressly  confineth  the 
"  constant  abode  and  supreme  illumination  of  (iod  to  the  holy 
"  Scriptures.  Therefore  (horrible  to  say)  God's  inward  presence, 
"  his  OPEKATING  row  nil  OF  UIE  and  light  in  our  souls,  his 
4<  dwelling  in  us,  and  we  in  him,  is  something  of  a  lower  nature, 
»'  that  only  may  occasionally  happen,  and  has  less  cf  God  in  it 
"  than  the  dead  letter  of  Sciipture,  which  alcne  is  the  constant 
'*  abode  and  supreme  illumination.  Miserable  fruits  of  a  para- 
"  doxical  genius  i" — A  humble,  earnest,  and  ajf^tiotiate  Addrcas  to 
the  Clergy,  p.  69,  70. 

This  poor  man,  whether  misled  by  his  fanaticism  or  his  spleen, 
has  here  fallen  into  a  trap  which  his  folly  laid  for  his  malice. 
In  the  discourse,  from  whence  the  paragraph  so  severely  handled 
is  taken,  I  treated  distinctly  of  these  two  branches  of  the  Holy 
Spirit;  l.  As  he  illuminates  the  understanding  under  the  title  cf 
the  Spirit  of  truth.  <2.  As  lie  rectifies  the  uill  under  the  title  of 
the  Comforter :  by  the  first  of  which,  he  establishes  our  faith; 
i\r.(\  by  the  second,  he  perfects  our  obedience. 

Now  it  is  under  the  first  branch  in  which  this  obnoxious 
paragraph  is  found.  So  that  common  sense  and  common  honesty 
require,  that  when  I  say,  the  constant  abode  ami  supreme  illumi 
nation  of  the  Hol$  Spirit  is  in  the  Sacred  Scripture*  of  the  Nci» 
Testament,  I  should  be  understood  to  mean,  that  he  is  there  only 
as  the  illuminator  of  the  understanding,  the  cslabliahcr  of  our  faith- 
But  Mr.  Law  applies  my  words  to  the  other  branch  of  his  office^ 
as  the  rectifier  of  the  Will,  the  perfect er  of  obedience ;  and  so 
makes  my  observation  nonsense  in  order  to  arraign  it  of  impiety. 


Chap.  VI.  OF   GRACE, 


CHAP.    VI. 

I T  remains  only  to  be  considered,  in  what  sense  we 
are  to  understand  this  inspiration  ? 

A  spurious  opinion,  begotten  in  the  Jewish  church 
by  superstition,  and  nursed  up  by  mistaken  piety  in 
the  Christian,  hath  almost  passed  into  an  article  of 
faith,  "  That  the  language  of  Scripture  was  dictated 
by  the  Holy  Spirit  in  such  sort  that  the  writers  were 
but  the  passive  organs  through  which  every  word  and 
letter  were  conveyed.''  And  as  superstition  seldom 
knows  where  to  stop,  the  Mahometans  improved  upon 
this  fancy,  and  represented  their  Scriptures  as  sent 
them  down  from  Heaven  ready  written.  Having  got 
into  so  fair  a  train,  the  next  theological  question  in 
honour  of  the  Alcoran  was,  whether  it  was  created  or 
uncreated',  and  the  orthodox  determination,  we  may 
be  sure,  was  in  favour  of  the  latter.  But  it  was  a  rab^ 
binical  hyperbole,  concerning  the  unvariable  reading 
of  the  copies  of  the  Law,  which  seems  to  have  given 
the  Mahometan  doctors  a  hint  for  this  last  conceit, 
concerning  the  physical  nature  of  the  Alcoran  *. 

But  there  are  many  objections   to  that  idea  of  or 
ganic  inspiration,  which  mistaken  piety  hath  adopted. 

i.  It  would  be  putting  the  Holy  Spirit  on  an  unne 
cessary  employment ;  for  much  of  these  sacred  volumei 

*  Orobio,  speaking  the  language  of  the  Rabbins,  says, — Liber 
Mosis  est  ita  perfectus  et  purus,  atque  ab  erroribus  alienus,  ab 
ejus  conditore  per  tot  secula  variis  in  nationibus  servatus,  ut 
ccetera  naturalia  qtwe  Deus  non  corruption!  exposita  creaiit ;  ut 
Cceli,  Sol  et  A*tra,  quae  a  sua  formatione  non  majore  Providentia 
incorrupta,  servantur  et  subsistunt,  quain  divini  legis  libri,  qul 
cunquam  aliquam  rnutationem  experti,  fuerunt  Apud  Lijnb, 
p.  147. 

VOL,  VIIL  T  being 


274  THE    DOCTRINE        [Book  I. 

being  historical,  and  of  facts  and  discourses  which  had 
fallen  under  the  observation  of  the  writers,  they  did 
not  need  his  immediate  assistance  to  do  this  part  of 
their  business  for  them. 

2.  Had  the  Scriptures  been  written  under  this  or 
ganic  inspiration,  there  must  have  heen  the  most  per 
fect  agreement  amongst  the  four  Evangelists,  in  every 
circumstance  of  the  smallest  fact.     But  we  see  there 
is  not  this  perfect  agreement.     In  some  minute  par 
ticulars,  which  regard  neither  faith  nor  manners,  neither 
the  truth  nor  certainty  of  the  History  in  general,  the 
several  writers  vary  from  one  another.     A  variation, 
which,  though  it  discredits  the  notion  of  an  organic 
inspiration,  yet  (which  is   of  much  more  importance) 
supports  the  fidelity  of  the  historians  ;  as  it  shews  that 
they  did    not  write  in  concert,  or  copy  from  one  an 
other  ;  but  that  each  described  the  proper  impressions 
•which  the  same  facts  had  made  upon  himself. 

3.  Were  this  the  true  idea  of  Scripture-inspiration, 
that  each  writer  was  but  the  mere  organ  of  the  Spirit, 
the  phraseology  or  turn  of  expression  had  teen  one 
-and  the  same  throughout  all  the  sacred  books  written 
in  the  same  language:  whereas  we  find  it  to  be  very 
different  and    various;    always  corresponding  to  the 
conditions,  tempers,  and  capacities  of  the  writers. 

4.  Lastly,    the  very  words  of  Scripture  must,  in 
this  case,  have  been  preserved,  throughout  all  ages, 
perfectly  pure  and  free    from   the   corruptions   and 
mistakes  of  transcribers.     For  if  it  were  expedient, 
useful,   and  sorting  with  the  views  of  divine  wisdom, 
that  every  word  and  letter  should  be  inspired,  it  was 
equally  expedient  that  every  word  and  letter  should  be 
preserved  uncorrupt;  otherwise  the  Holy  Spirit  would 
appear  to  have  laboured  in  vain.     Now  general  ex- 

g2  perience 


Chap.  VII]  OF    GRACE.  275 

perience  assures  us,  that  this  is  not  the  case;  frequent 
transcribing  hath  occasioned  numerous  variations  in 
words  and  phrases,  throughout  all  the  Scriptures  of  the 
New  Testament.  But  though  this  opposes  the  notion 
of  organic  inspiration,  yet  the  harmless  nature  of  the 
variations,  which  never  disturb  the  sense,  nor  obscure 
a  single  proposition  of  Faith,  or  precept  of  good  man 
ners,  affords  us  a  noble  instance  of  the  gracious  pro 
vidence  of  God,  in  bringing  down  to  us  those  Scrip 
tures,  destined  for  an  Infallible  rule,  incorrupt  and 
entire,  in  all  essential  and  even  material  points; 
though,  after  escaping  the  impure  hands  of  so  many 
outrageous  bigots,  schismatic  visionaries,  and  heretical 
seducers,  they  had  a  long  journey  still  to  run,  through 
the  dark  cloisters  of  dreaming  superstition,  and  of 
ignorance  but  half  awake. 

From  all  this  we  conclude,  that  the  notion  of  organic 
inspiration  must  needs  be  false :  and  yet  we  have  proved 
it  to  be  an  undoubted  truth,  that  the  Scriptures  of 
the  New  Testament  were  given  by  the  inspiration  of 
God. 


CHAP.    VII. 

LET  us  consider,  then,  in  what  sense  this  inspira 
tion  is  to  be  understood. — From  the  premises  we  can 
deduce  no  other  notion  of  it  but  this,  "  That  the  Holy 
Spirit  so  directed  the  pens  of  these  writers,  that  no  con 
siderable  error  should  fall  from  them  : — by  enlightening 
them  with  his  immediate  influence  in  all  such  matters 
as  were  necessary  for  the  instruction  of  the  Church, 
and  which,  either  through  ignorance  or  prejudice,  they 
would  otherwise  have  represented  imperfectly,  par 
tially,  or  falsely ;  and  by  preserving  them  by  the  more 
ordinary  means  of  providence,  from  any  mistakes  of 

X  2  consequence, 


376  THE    DOCTRINE         [Book  I. 

consequence,  concerning  those  things  whereof  they 
had  acquired  a  competent  knowledge  by  the  common 
way  of  information.  In  a  word,  by  watching  over  them 
incessantly ;  but  with  so  suspended  a  hand,  as  permit 
ted  the  use,  and  left  them  to  the  guidance,  of  their  own 
faculties,  while  they  kept  clear  of  error ;  and  then  only 
interposing  when,  without  this  divine  assistance,  they 
would  have  been  in  danger  of  falling." 

This  seems  to  be  the  true  idea  of  the  inspiration  in 
question.  This  only  doth  agree  with  all  appearances ; 
arid  will  fully  answer  the  purpose  of  an  inspired  writing, 
which  is  to  afford  an  INFALLIBLE  RULE  for  the  direc 
tion  of  the  Catholic  Church. 

But  it  is  not  only  the  nature  and  genius,  the  state 
and  condition  of  Holy  Scripture,  which  support  this 
idea  of  inspiration  :  the  express  words  of  its  composers 
lead  to  the  same  conclusion.  St.  Peter,  speaking  of 
the  Epistles  of  his  fellow-labourer  St.  Paul,  uses  this 
temperate  expression  concerning  their  inspiration  ;  he 
hath  written  to  you,  says  he,  according  to  the  wisdom 
given  unto  him  * :  Now,  as  on  the  one  hand,  by  the 
character  of  this  wisdom,  which  is  said  to  be  GIVEN', 
we  must  conclude  it  to  be  that  wisdom  coming  imme 
diately  from  above ;  so,  from  this  account  of  the 
Apostle's  free  use  of  it,  who  employed  it  as  the  regu 
lator  of  his  thoughts  and  conceptions,  we  must  conclude 
on  the  other,  that  there  was  no  inspiration  ruling 
irresistibly,  further  than  to  secure  the  writer  from  error 
and  mistake.  And  the  diffidence  with  which  the 
Apostle  himself  speaks,  on  a  certain  occasion  f,  con 
cerning  his  inspiration,  shews  that  it  could  not  be 
organic,  for  this  species  excludes  all  doubt  and  uncer 
tainty  concerning  its  presence. 

*  KATA  T}»   HUTU  AO0EI2AN  <ro$w 2  Pet.  iii.  15. 

•f-  SOKU  ft  xtfyu  qjnvpa,  ©e»  ippHu     1  Cor.  vii.  40. 

But 


Chap.  VII.]  OF    GRACE.  277 

But  it  may  be  said,  that,  on  this  moderated  idea  of 
inspiration,  we  shall  never  be  able  to  distinguish  which 
parts  were  written  under  the  immediate  influence  of 
the  Spirit,  and  which  were  the  product  of  human  know 
ledge  only.  What  if  we  shall  not  ?  Where  is  the 
mischief  or  inconvenience  ?  While  all  we  want  to  know- 
is,  that  every  sentence  of  Scripture,  «which  but  remotely 
concerns  either  faith  or  practice,  is  infallibly  true.  It 
is  of  little  consequence  to  us  to  be  instructed  how  or  in 
what  manner  that  truth  came  to  be  secured :  whether 
by  direct  inspiration :  or  by  that  virtual  superintend 
ence  of  the  Spirit,  which  preserved  the  writers  of  it 
from  error.  Scripture  is  the  rule  of  Christian  conduct ; 
and  if  the  rule  be  known  to  be  unerring,  this  is  all  that 
is  wanting  to  effectuate  its  end. 

And  yet  I  am  persuaded,  licentious  men  have  been 
the  forwarder  to  contend  for  this  moderated  inspiration, 
under  the  idea  of  a  partial  one,  on  the  pleasing  fancy 
that  it  would  support  them  in  believing  no  more  than 
suited  with  their  principles  or  their  practice.  But, 
what  hath  been  observed  on  this  head  sufficiently  ex 
poses  the  vanity  of  all  such  idle  contrivances  to  let 
men  loose  from  any  part  of  their  faith  or  duty.  For, 
be  it  admitted  that  this  or  that  particular  doctrine  or 
precept  was  not  delivered  under  the  immediate  influ 
ence  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  but  was  conveyed  to  posterity, 
in  the  common  way  of  history,  as  the  writer  received 
it  from  his  Master,  yet  this  takes  nothing  at  all  from 
that  certainty  of  truth  which  attends  director  inspira 
tion;  since  the  rational  idea  of  a  partial  influence  im 
plies,  that  the  Spirit  so  watched  over  the  authors  of  the 
New  Testament,  and  so  guided  their  pens,  as  to  admit 
no  mixture  of  mate-rial  error  in  those  parts  where  they 
discharged  no  more  than  the  function  of  ordinary 
historians. 

T  3  In 

\ 


THE   DOCTRINE  [Bookl. 

In  a  word,  it  imports  us  little  to  be  solicitous  about 
the  Scriptural  DELIVERY  of  Gospel  truths  ;  whether 
they  be  conveyed  to  us  by  means  merely  human,  or 
by  the  more  powerful  workings  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  so 
long  as  we  are  assured  that  Divine  Providence  guarded 
that  delivery  from  all  approach  of  error.  But  then 
let  us  observe,  that  this  is  a  very  different  thing  from 
the  ORIGIN  E  of  the  truths  themselves :  for  on  this  latter, 
the  reality  of  our  religion,  indeed,  depends ;  the  very 
nature  of  it  consisting  in  this,  that  the  doctrines  which 
it  teacheth  be  not  only  truths  SIMPLY,  but  truths 
REVEALED  from  Heaven.  And  indeed,  even  with 
regard  to  the  delivery,  when  the  writers  propose  any 
thing  of  faith  or  practice,  explanatory  of  what  their 
Master  taught,  and  not  explicitly  contained  in  his 
words,  we  must  needs  conclude,  that  so  far  forth  they 
were  under  the  immediate  direction  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
who  was  to  teach  them  all  things :  and  this  influence 
the  Apostle  calls,  speaking  by  revelation  *. 

Thus  we  see  the  advantages  resulting  from  a  PARTI  A  j, 
INSPIRATION,  as  here  contended  for  and  explained.  It 
answers  all  the  ends  of  a  Scripture  universally  and 
organically  inspired,  by  producing  an  UNERRING  KULE 
of  Faith  and  Manners ;  and,  besides,  obviates  all  those 
objections  to  inspiration  which  arise  from  the  too  high 
notion  of  it :  such  as  trifling  errors  in  circumstances  of 
small  importance ;  for  the  least  error  is  inconsistent 
with  organic  inspiration,  but  may  well  stand  with  a 
virtual  and  co-operating  influence :  such  again,  as  the 
various  readings  in  the  several  transcripts  ,*  and  the 
various  styles  amongst  the  several  authors  of  Scrip 
ture:  inconsistencies  which  would  never  have  been 
permitted,  and  contrarieties  which  could  never  have 
happened,  under  universal  inspiration;  but  which 

*  \»v  /**  VIMV  tetiffo  •»  AnOKAATPJEL     1.  Cor.  xiv.  6. 

are 


Chap.  VIII.]  OF    GRACE.  279 

a-re   the   natural  and  harmless  consequences   of  the 
PARTIAL. 

In  a  word,  by  admitting  no  more  than  this  lower  kind 
of  inspiration,  so  warmly  contended  for  (and  in  terms 
as  vague  and  indeterminate  as  the  Scepticism  of  the 
users)  by  men  who  were  in  hopes  that  the  admission 
of  it  would  end  in  no  inspiration  at  all,  we  secure  and 
establish  the  infallible  word  of  Scripture;  and  free  it 
from  all  those  embarrassing  circumstances  which  have 
been  so  artfully  and  disingenuously  thrown  out  to  its 
discredit. 


CHAP.    VIII. 

BUT  there  is  no  idea  of  an  inspired  Scripture,  which 
libertine  men  have  not  perverted  to  serve  their  evil 
purposes.  Thus,  when  their  own  idea  of  a  partial 
inspiration  hath  failed  in  this  service,  they  have  tried 
what  mischief  that  other,  of  our  invention,  an  organic 
inspiration,  was  likely  to  produce.  In  order  to  this, 
they  have  laid  it  down  as  a  proposition  not  likcjy  to 
be  contested,  "  that,  on  this  idea,  the  work  inspired 
could  be  RO  other  than  a  perfect  model  of  eloquence, 
pure,  clear,  noble,  and  affect  h/g  beyond  the  force  of 
common  speech"  To  this,  it  was  thought  enough  to 
shew,  that  their  principle  was  false ;  that,  in  the  com 
position  of  sacred  Scripture,  there  was  no  organic 
inspiration:  ar)d  this,  I  presume,  I  have  sufficiently 
performed. 

But,  luckily  for  their  purpose,  there  is  another  cir 
cumstance  in  the  dispensation  of  Grace,  which  restores 
their  objection,  concerning  a  perfect  model  of  eloquence, 
to  its  native  force.  This  circumstance  therefore  is  now 
to  be  considered ;  the  use  made  of  it,  fairly  repre- 

T  4  sented ; 


280  THE    DOCTRINE          [Book  I. 

sented ;  and  the  proper  reasoning  applied,  to  enervate 
its  new  recovered  force. 

The  circumstance  is  this  :  Several  books  of  the  New 
Testament  are  written  by  persons  who  acquired  the 
knowledge  of  the  Greek  tongue  by  miraculous  infusion, 
as  at  the  day  of  Pentecost.  "  Now  the  Holy  Ghost, 
say  they,  could  not  but  inspire  the  purest  Greek,  and 
the  most  perfect  eloquence  in  the  use  of  it ;  whatever 
they  wrote  therefore  in  any  future  time,  in  this  lan 
guage,  must  needs  bear  these  marks  of  its  celestial 
birth,  whether  they  were  assisted  in  the  composition 
by  the  Holy  Spirit,  or  whether  they  wrote  upon  the 
fund  of  their  formerly  acquired  knowledge.  But  the 
language  of  all  the  books  of  the  New  Testament  is 

o      o 

utterly  rude  and  barbarous,  and  savours  nothing  of  so 
high  an  original." 

The  learned  person  (whose  reasoning  against  the 
duration  of  the  inspired  knowledge  of  language  on  the 
day  of  Pentecost,  hath  been  considered  above)  lends 
the  Libertine  these  arms,  in  his  concluding  argument, 
in  support  of  that  notion ;  which  argument  I  have  re 
served  to  be  considered  in  this  place. 

"  If  we  allow  (says  he)  the  gift  to  be  lasting,  we 
"  must  conclude  that  some  at  legist  of  the  books  of 
"  Scripture  were  in  this  inspired  Greek.  But  (says  he) 
"  we  should  naturally  expect  to  find  an  inspired  lan- 
*'  guage  to  be  such  as  is  worthy  of  God ;  that  is,  pure, 
"  clear,  noble,  and  aftecting,  even  beyond  the  force  of 
'  common  speech ;  since  nothing  can  come  from  God 
"  but  what  is  perfect  in  its  kind.  In  short,  the  purity 
"  of  Plato,  and  the  eloquence  of  Cicero.  Now  (con- 
"  tinues  he)  if  we  try  the  apostolic  language  by  this 
"  rule,  we  shall  be  so  far  from  ascribing  it  to  God, 
"  that  we  shall  scarce  think  it  worthy  of  Man,  that  is, 
"  of  the  liberal  and  polite ;  it  being  utterly  rude  and 

"  barbarous 


Chap.  VIII.]  OF   GRACE.  281 

"  barbarous,  and  abounding  with  every  fault  that  can 
"  possibly  deform  a  language.  And  though  some 
11  writers,  prompted  by  a  false  zeal,  have  attempted 
"  to  defend  the  purity  of  the  Scripture-Greek,  their 
"  labour  has  been  idly  employed  *." 

These  triumphant  observations  are  founded  on  two 
propositions,  both  of  which  he  takes  for  granted ;  and 
yet  neither  of  them  is  true. 

i .  The  one,  That  an  inspired  language  must  needs 
be  a  language  of  perfect  eloquence. — 2.  The  other, 
That  eloquence  is  something  congenial  and  essential 
to  human  speech. — I  shall  shew  the  falsehood  of  both. 

With  regard  to  the  first  proposition,  I  will  be  bold 
to  affirm,  that  were  the  STYLE  of  the  New  Testament 
exactly  such  as  his  very  exaggerated  account  of  it 
would  persuade  us  to  believe,  namely,  that  it  is  utterly 
rude  and  barbarous,  and  abounding  with  every  fault 
that  can  possibly  deform  a  language,  this  is  so  far 
from  proving  such  language  not  divinely  inspired,  that 
it  is  one  certain  mark  of  this  original. 

I  will  not  pretend  to  point  out  which  books  of  the 
New  Testament  were  or  were  not  composed  by  those 
who  had  the  Greek  tongue  thus  miraculously  infused 
into  them ;  but  this  I  will  venture  to  say,  that  the 
style  of  a  writer  so  inspired,  who  had  not  (as  these 
writers  had  not)  afterwards  cultivated  his  knowledge  of 
the  language  on  the  principles  of  Grecian  eloquence, 
would  be  precisely  such  as  we  find  it  in  the  books  of 
the  New  Testament. 

For,  if  this  only  be  allowed,  which  no  one,  I  think, 
will  contest  with  me,  that  a  strange  language  acquired 
by  illiterate  men,  in  the  ordinary  way,  would  be  full 
of  the  idioms  of  their  native  tongue,  just  us  the  Scrip - 

*  Dr.  Middleton's  Essay  on  the  Gift  of  Tongues,  Works,  vol.  ii. 
P-  ?*• 

ture- 


282  THE    DOCTRINE          [Book! 

ture-Greek  is  observed  to  be  full  of  Syriasms  and 
Hebraisms ;  how  can  it  be  pretended,  by  those  who 
reflect  upon  the  nature  of  language,  that  a  strange 
tongue  divinely  infused  into  illiterate  men,  like  that 
at  the  day  of  Pentecost,  could  have  any  other  proper 
ties  or  conditions  ? 

Let  us  weigh  these  cases  impartially.  Every  lan 
guage  consists  of  two  distinct  parts ;  the  single  terms, 
and  the  phrases  and  idioms.  The  first,  as  far  as  con 
cerns  appellatives  especially,  is  of  mere  arbitrary  im 
position,  though  on  artificial  principles  common  to  all 
men  :  The  second  arises  insensibly,  but  constantly, 
from  the  manners,  customs,  and  tempers  of  those  to 
whom  the  language  is  vernacular ;  and  so  becomes, 
though  much  less  arbitrary  (as  what  the  Grammarians 
call  congruity  is  more  concerned  in  this  part  than  in 
the  other),  yet  various  and  different  as  the  several 
tribes  and  nations  of  mankind.  The  first  therefore  is 
unrelated  to  every  thing  but  to  the  genius  of  language 
in  general :  the  second  hath  an  intimate  connexion  with 
the  fashions,  notions,  and  opinions  of  that  people  only, 
to  whom  the  language  is  native. 

Let  us  consider  then  the  constant  way  which  illiterate 
men  take  to  acquire  the  knowledge  of  a  foreign  tongue. 
Do  they  not  make  it  their  principal,  and,  at  first,  their 
only  study,  to  treasure  up  in  their  memory  the  signifi 
cation  of  the  terms?  Hence,  when  they  come  to  talk 
or  write  in  the  speech  thus  acquired,  their  language  is 
found  to  be  full  of  their  own  native  idioms.  And  thus 
it  will  continue,  till,  by  long  use  of  the  strange  tongue, 
and  especially  by  long  acquaintance  with  the  owners 
of  it,  they  have  imbibed  the  particular  genius  qf  the 
language. 

Suppose  then  this  foreign  tongue,  instead  of  being 
thus  gradually  introduced  into  the  minds  of  these  illite 
rate 


Chap.  VIIL]  OF    GRACE.  283 

rate  men,  was  instantaneously  infused  into  them ;  the 
operation  (though  not  the  very  mode  of  operating) 
being  the  same,  must  not  the  effect  be  the  same,  let 
the  cause  be  never  so  different?  Without  question. 
The  divine  impression  must  be  made  either  by  fixing 
the  terms  or  single  words  only  and  their  signification 
in  the  memory;  as,  for  instance,  Greek  terms  corres^ 
ponding  to  the  Syriac  or  Hebrew ;  or  else,  together 
with  that  simple  impression,  another  must  be  made, 
to  inrich  the  mind  with  all  the  ideas  which  go  towards 
the  composing  the  phrases  and  idioms  of  the  language 
so  inspired :  But  this  latter  impression  seems  to  re 
quire,  or  rather  indeed  implies,  a  previous  one,  of  the 
tempers,  fashions,  and  opinions  of  the  people  to  whom 
the  language  is  native,  upon  the  minds  of  those  to 
whom  the  language  is  thus  imparted ;  because  the 
phrase  arid  idiom  arises  from  and  is  dependent  on  the 
manners  arising  from  thence :  and  therefore  the  force 
of  expression  can  be  understood  only  in  proportion  to 
the  knowledge  of  those  manners  :  and  understood  they 
were  to  be :  the  Recipients  of  this  spiritual  gift  being 
not  organical  Canals,  but  rational  Dispensers.  So  that 
this  would  be  a  waste  of  miracles  without  a  sufficient 
cause;  the  Syriac  or  Hebrew  idiom,  to  whidrthe  Dis 
ciples  were  enabled  of  themselves  to  adapt  the  words 
of  the  Greek  or  any  other  language,  abundantly  serving 
every  useful  purpose,  all  which  centered  in  the  commu 
nicating  Of  CLEAR  INFORMATION.  We  Conclude, 

therefore,  that  what  was  thus  inspired  was  the  TERMS, 
together  with  that  grainmatic  congruity  in  the  use 
of  them,  which  is  dependent  thereon.  In  a  word,  to 
suppose  such  kind  of  inspired  knowledge  of  strange 
tongues  as  includes  all  the  native  peculiarities,  which, 
if  you  will,  you  may  call  their  elegancies  (for  the  more 
a  language  is  coloured  by  the  character  and  manners 

of 


284  THE    DOCTRINE        [Book  I. 

of  the  native  users,  the  more  elegant  it  is  esteemed) ; 
to  suppose  this,  is,  as  I  have  said,  an  ignorant  fancy, 
and  repugnant  to  reason  and  experience. 

Now,  from  what  hath  been  observed,  it  follows,  that 
if  the  style  of  the  New  Testament  were  indeed  derived 
from  a  language  divinely  infused  as  on  the  day  of  Pen 
tecost,  it  must  be  just  such,  with  regard  to  its  style, 
\vhichj  in  fact,  we  find  it  to  be ;  that  is  to  say,  Greek 
terms  very  frequently  delivered  in  Syriac  and  Hebrew 
idiom. 

The  conclusion  from  the  whole  is  this,  that  a  nominal 
or  local  barbarity  of  style  (for  that  this  attribute,  when 
applied  to  style,  is  no  more  than  nominal  or  local,  will 
be  clearly  shewn  under  our  next  head)  is  so  far  from 
being  an  objection  to  its  miraculous  acquisition,  that  it 
is  one  mark  of  such  extraordinary  original. 

But  the  learned  writer  is  so  perfectly  satisfied  that 
this  barbarity  of  style,  which  claims  the  title  of  inspired, 
is  a  sure  mark  of  imposture,  that  he  almost  ventures 
to  foretel,  it  will  prove  the  destruction  of  those  preten 
sions,  as  it  did  to  the  Delphic  Oracles.  The  parallel, 
he  thinks,  is  a  curiosity ;  and  so  do  I ;  therefore  the 
reader  shall  have  it  just  as  he  himself  has  dressed  it  up. 
"  It  is  somewhat  curious  to  observe,  that  there  was  a 
"  controversy  of  the  same  kind  amongst  the  Ancient 
"  Heathens,  concerning  the  style  and  composition  of 
"  the  Delphic  Oracles.  For  as  those  Oracles  were 
"  delivered  in  verse,  and  the  verses  generally  rude  and 
"  harsh,  and  offending  frequently  both  in  the  exactness 
"  of  metre  and  propriety  of  language,  so  men  of  sense 
"  easily  saw  that  they  could  not  be  inspired  by  the 
"  Deity :  others,  on  the  contrary,  blinded  by  their 
"  prejudices,  or  urged  by  their  zeal,  to  support  the 
"  credit  of  the  popular  superstition,  constantly  main- 
"  tained,  that  the  verses  w.ere  really  beautiful  and 

"  noble- 


Chap.  VIII.]  OF    GRACE.  285 

"  noble,  and  worthy  of  God ;  and  that  the  contrary 
"  opinion  flowed  from  a  false  delicacy  and  sickly  taste, 
"  which  relished  no  poetry,  but  what  was  soft  and 
"  sweet;  and  breathing  nothing,  as  it  were,  but  spices 
"  and  perfumes.  The  dispute  however  seems  to  have 
"  been  compounded,  and  a  distinction  found,  in  which 
"  all  parties  acquiesced,  by  allowing  some  sortofinspi- 
"  ration,  ami  divine  authority  to  the,  matter  of  the 
s(  Oracle,  but  leaving  all  the  rest  to  the  proper  talents 
"  and  faculties  of  the  Prophetess :  who  being  tired  at 
"  last  with  the  continual  labour  of  versifying,  began  to 
"  utter  her  Oracles  in  prose,  till  the  whole  imposture 
"  fell  by  degrees  into  an  universal  contempt,  and  so 
"  finally  expired  *." 

A  sad  story !  But,  happily,  the  essential  differences 
between  these  oracular  pretensions,  and  those  of  the 
Christian  Evangelists  (all  of  which  the  learned  Writer 
has  thought  proper  to  overlook),  will  ease  us  of  our 
fears ;  for  any  one  of  these  differences  is  sufficient  to 
shew,  that  though  the  objection  may  hold  good  against 
the  Heathen  Oracles,  yet  it  has  not  the  least  force 
against  Scripture  inspiration. 

i .  First  then  the  Delphic  Oracles  were  supposed  to 
proceed  from  the  fabled  God  of  verse,  who  having, 
according  to  the  popular  opinion,  inspired  his  Poets 
as  well  as  Prophets,  there  was,  in  the  writings  of  the 
most  authentic  of  I\\Q  former,  a  model  of  divine  elo 
quence,  on  which  the  pretensions  of  the  latter  might 
be  estimated.  But  Scripture  inspiration  came  profes 
sedly  from  a  Deity  who  had  declared  that  his  thoughts 
are  not  our  thoughts,  neither  are  our  ways  his  ways. 
For  as  the  heavens  are  higher  than  the  earth,  Sec.  f 

*  Essay  on  the  Gift  of  Tongues,  vol.  ii.  of  Middleton's  Works, 
pp.  91,  92.  t  I*auUi  Iv.  8,  9., 

2.  The 


286  THE   DOCTRINE          [Book  L 

2.  The  Delphic  Oracles  were  delivered  in  verse  or 
measure;  for  the  composition  of  which,  there  were 
established  rules,  formed  on  the  writings  of  the  ancient 
Poets :  when  therefore  this  species  of  eloquence  was 
employed  by  the  Delphic  Prophetess,  if  she  conformed 
not  to  the  established  rules,  but  offended  against  the 
metre,  which  her  own  God  originally  inspired,  she 
might  be  fairly  adjudged  an  impostor.     But  the  in 
spired  Penman  disclaimed  all  models  of  human  elo 
quence,  and  the  enticing  words  of  mans  wisdom. 

3.  The  Delphic  Prophetess  was  a  mere  organ,  her 
Prophecies  being  delivered  in  a  fit  of  ecstacy,  when 
the  presence  of  the  God  was  supposed  to  obliterate 
all  the  impressions  of  human  ideas ;  so  that  every  iota 
was  to  be  placed  to  the  account  of  the  inspiring  God. 
But  it  was  just  otherwise  with  such   as  were  actuated 
by  the   Holy  Spirit :  These,  in  the  very  moments  of 
inspiration,  still   retained  the  free  use  of  themselves, 
and  continued  masters  of  their  rational  and  persuasive 
faculties;  the  Spirits  of  the  Prophets  (as  St.  Paul  in 
forms  us,  who   spoke  from  his  own  experience)  were 
sulject  to  the  Prophets  *  /  The  Pagan  Zealots  there 
fore  grossly  prevaricated,  when,  to  cover  the  imposture 
of  the  Delphic  Oracle,  they  compromised  the  matter 
with  their  adversaries,  by  allowing  some  sort  of  inspi 
ration,  and  divine  authority,  but  leaving  all  the  rest 
to  the  proper  talents  and  faculties  of  the  Prophetess. 
But  the  Defenders   of  our  holy  Religion,  when  they 
say  the  same  thing  in  defence  of  sacred  Scripture,  do 
neither  prevaricate  nor   compromise;  they  advance, 
and  they  adhere  to,  a  reasonable  and  consistent  hypo 
thesis  ;  which,  in  an  examination  of  the  present  state 
of  the  books  of  the  New  Testament  as  transmitted 

*   J  Cor.  xiv.  32. 

down 


Chap.  VIII.]          OF    GRACE.  287 

down  to  us  from  the  earliest  antiquity,  I  have  shewn 
to  be  actually  supported  by  fact. 

On  the  whole,  then,  we  need  not  be  too  much 
alarmed  at  the  hint  which  the  learned  Writer  hath 
here  given  us,  in  the  fate  of  the  Delphic  Oracles, 
though  never  so  tragically  related  : — The  Prophetess, 
tired  at  last  with  the  continual  labour  of  versifyi8gi 
began  to  utter  her  oracles  in  PROSE,  ////  the  whole 
imposture  Jell  by  degrees  into  an  universal  contempt, 
and  so  finally  expired;  I  say  we  need  not  be  much 
alarmed  at  this  catastrophe,  because  our  Oracles  hold 
nothing  in  common  with  the  Delphic ;  and  because 
the  disgrace  brought  upon  these  was  derived  neither 
from  their  bad  verse  nor  barbarous  prose ;  but  from 
very  different  causes  ;  which  the  learned  Person  either 
did  not  know,  or  at  least  did  not  care  that  his  Reader 
should. 

In  a  word,  there  is  but  one  single  mark  of  re 
semblance  in  all  this  ostentatious  parallel ;  and  that 
does  not  lie  between  the  Pagan  and  Christian  Oracles, 
but  between  their  Defenders  ;  who,  \\  ith  equal  indis 
cretion,  contended  for  purity,  elegance,  and  beauty 
of  style,  where  in  one  case  it  was  not  to  be  found, 
thcu  -ii  pretended  to ;  and  in  the  other,  neither  pre 
tended  to,  nor  found.  The  defenders  of  the  Delphic 
Oracles,  the  learned  Person  thus  describes,  that, 
blinded  by  their  prejudices,  or  urged  by  their  zeal  to 
support  the  credit  of  the  popular  superstition,  they 
constantly  maintained,  that  the  verses  were  really 
beautiful  and  noble,  and  worthy  of  God;  and  that 
the  contrary  opinion  flowed  from  a  false  delicacy,  and 
sickly  taste,  which  relished  no  poetry,  but  what  was 
soft  and  sweet,  and  breathing  nothing  but  spices  and 
perfumes. — The  Defenders  of  Scripture  eloquence  he 
had  before  represented  in  the  same  light — And 

though 


288  THE    DOCTRINE         [Book  I. 

though  some  Writers,  prompted  by  a  false  Zeal,  hcroc 
attempted  to  defend  the  purity  of  Scripture-Greek, 
their  labours  have  been  idly  employed. 

Nothing,  indeed,  is  more  certain.  Their  labours 
have  been  very  idly  employed.  One  common  delu 
sion  has  misled  the  zealous  defenders  of  all  religions 
on  this  head,  not  only  the  Pagan  and  the  Christian, 
but,  as  we  have  seen,  the  Mahometan  likewise.  And 
here  let  me  observe,  what  is  well  worth  our  notice, 
that  that  common  imbecility  of  our  nature,  which 
leads  the  professors  of  all  Religions  into  the  same 
specific  absurdities  of  the  marvellous,  though  without 
imitating  one  another,  has  (when  blundering  on,  in 
the  obscure  of  Superstition,  or  the  blind  blaze  of 
Fanaticism)  generally  been  more  successful  in  the 
support  of  false  Religion  than  of  the  true.  Of  this  I 
have  occasionally  given  divers  instances  elsewhere. 
One  of  them,  which  I  just  now  chanced  to  mention, 
will  deserve  to  be  explained.  The  Mahometan  Doc 
tors  were  (with  their  Master)  under  this  common  de 
lusion,  that  an  inspired  writing  must  needs  be  a  per 
fect  model  of  eloquence.  And  they  Succeeded  better 
than  the  Christian;  for  they  had  advantages  which 
our  zealots  had  not.  For,  first,  Mahomet  himself  de 
livered  the  Alcoran  to  his  followers  under  this  cha 
racter  ;  and  defied  the  masters  of  human  eloquence 
to  equal  it ;  whereas  the  writers  of  Holy  Scripture  dis 
claim  all  these  fantastic  advantages.  Secondly,  when 
Mahomet  retailed  his  Alcoran,  there  was  no  acknow 
ledged  model  of  Arabic  eloquence;  but  when  the 
books  of  the  New  Testament  were  composed,  there 
were  many,  and  of  the  highest  authority ;  so  that  those 
bold  pretensions  easily  obtained,  and  soon  smoothed 
the  way  for  its  actually  becoming  such  a  model. 
Lastly,  Enthusiasm,  which  had  just  done  much  greater 

things, 


Chap.  IX.]          OF    GRACE.  289 

things,  easily  induced  the  Saracens  to  believe,  that 
they  saw  what  their  Prophet  so  confidently  objected 
to  their  admiration,  an  all-perfect  model  of  eloquence 
in  the  Chapters  of  the  Alcoran.  And  they  believed 
so  long  till  the  book  became  in  fact,  what  at  first  they 
had  only  fancied  it,  as  real  and  substantial  a  pattern 
of  eloquence  as  any  whatsoever;  a  paradox,  which, 
like  many  others  that  I  have  had  the  odd  fortune  to 
advance,  will  presently  be  seen  to  be  only  another 
name  for  Truth.  But  here  in  the  North-west,  our 
enthusiasm  is  neither  so  exalted,  nor  our  habits  so 
constant.  We  have  neither  the  knack  of  persuading 
ourselves  so  readily,  nor  the  humour  of  sticking  to  a 
fashion  so  obstinately. 

However  foolish  then  Q\\V  false  Zealots  have  shewn 
themselves  in  attempting  to  defend  the  purity  of  the 
Scripture  Greek,  it  little  became  the  learned  Writer, 
of  all  men,  to  make  them  the  subject  of  his  derision ; 
since  the  same  false  principle,  which  betrayed  them 
into  one  extreme,  hath  misled  him  into  another.  The 
principle  I  mean  (and  it  has  misled  many  besides)  is 
that  which  lays  it  down  for  truth,  That  an  inspired 
Scripture  must  be  a  model  of  perfect  eloquence. 


CHAP.  ix. 

T  H  I  S  brings  us  to  the  learned  Writer's  second 
proposition,  which  I  promised  to  examine;  and  on 
which  the  principle,  here  delivered,  is  founded.  It 
is  this, 

2.  That  eloquence  is  something  congenial  and 
essential  to  human  speech ;  and  inherent  in  the  con 
stitution  of  things. 

This  supposes,  that  there  is  some  certain  A  RCHETYPE 
VOL.  VIII.  U  in 


sgo  THE    DOCTRINE        [Book  I. 

in  nature,  to  which  that  quality  refers,  and  on  which 
it  is  to  be  formed  and  modelled.  And,  indeed,  ad 
mitting  this  to  he  the  case,  one  should  he  apt  enough 
to  conclude,  that  when  the  Author  of  Nature  con 
descended  to  inspire  one  of  these  plastic  performances 
of  human  art,  he  would  make  it  by  the  exactest 
pattern  of  the  Archetype. 

But  the  proposition  is  fanciful  and  false.  Eloquence 
is  not  congenial  or   essential  to  human  speech,  nor 
is   there   any   Archetype   in    nature    to   which    that 
quality  refers.     It  is   accidental   and   arbitrary,  and 
depends  on  custom  and  fashion :  It  is  a  mode  of  human 
communication  which  changes  with  the  changing  cli 
mates  of  the  earth ;  and  is  as  various  and  unstable  as 
the  genius,  temper,  and  manners  of  its  diversified  in 
habitants.     For  what  is  PURITY  but  the  use  of  such 
terms,  with  their  multiplied  combinations,  as  the  in 
terest,  the  complexion,  or  the  caprice  of  a  Writer  or 
Speaker  of  Authority  hath  preferred  to  its  equals  ? 
What  is  ELEGANCE,   but  such  a  turn  of  idiom  as  a 
fashionable  fancy  hath  brought  into  repute  ?  And  what 
is  SUBLIMITY,  but  the  application  of  such  images,  as 
arbitrary  or  casual  connexions,  rather  than  their  own 
native  grandeur,  have  dignified  and  ennobled  ?  Now 
ELOQUENCE  is  a  compound  of  these  three  qualities 
of  Speech,  and  consequently  must  be  as  nominal  and 
unsubstantial   as  its  constituent  parts.     So  that  that 
mode  of  composition    which  is  a  model  of  perfect 
eloquence  to  one  nation  or  people,  must  appear  extra 
vagant  or  mean  to  another.     And  thus  in  fact  it  was. 
Indian  and  Asiatic  Eloquence  were  esteemed  hyper 
bolic,  unnatural,  abrupt,    and   puerile,    to  the   more 
phlegmatic   inhabitants  of  Rome  and  Athens.     And 
the  Western  Eloquence,  in  its  turn,  appeared  nerve 
less  and  effeminate,  frigid  or  insipid,  to  the  hardy  and 

inflamed 


Chap.  IX.]          OF   GRACE.  291 

inflamed  imaginations  of  the  East.  Nay,  what  is 
more,  each  species,  even  of  the  most  approved  genus, 
changed  its  nature  with  the  change  of  clime  and  lan 
guage;  and  the  same  expression,  which,  in  one  place, 
had  the  utmost  simplicity,  had,  in  another,  the  utmost 
sublime. 

Longinus  reading  these  words  in  the  Septuagint, 
God  said,  Let  there  be  light,  ami  there  was  light,  and 
regulating  his  ideas  on  the  genius  of  his  own  language, 
very  acutely  gave  them  as  an  example  of  the  sublime. 
We  may  be  sure  the  judgment  of  so  accomplished  a 
Critic  would  be  eagerly  laid  hold  on  by  our  Doctor's 
zealous  Divines,  to  exalt  the  credit  of  Moses's  elocu 
tion.  Indeed,  the  sublime  introduction  to  the  book 
of  Genesis  passed,  for  a  long  time,  unquestioned. 
At  length  Huetius  and  Le  Clerc,  more  carefully  at 
tending  to  the  original  text,  discovered  that  the  words 
were  so  far  from  being  sublime,  that  they  were  of  the 
utmost  simplicity ;  and  each  of  these  Critics  composed 
a  long  dissertation  to  support  his  opinion.  So  far 
was  well ;  but,  not  content  with  what  they  had  done, 
they  would  needs  prove  that  Longinus  was  mistaken 
in  his  criticism  of  the  Greek.  This  provoked  the 
Poet  Boilcau,  who  had  just  translated  that  celebrated 
work,  to  support  his  Author's  judgment;  and  (as  he 
was  in  the  same  delusion  with  his  adversaries)  he  did 
it  by  endeavouring  to  prove  the  sublime  of  the  original 
expression.  This  furnished  matter  for  answers  and 
replies  in  abundance :  Whereas,  had  the  disputants 
but  reflected,  that  the  same  expression, ;  which  in  one 
language  was  highly  sublime,  might,  in  another,  be 
extremely  simple,  the  judgment  ofs  the  Greek  critic 
would  have  been  confessed  by-IIuetius  and  Le  Clerc, 
and  the  biblical  knowledge  of  these  two  learned  In 
terpreters  allowed  of  by  Uoileau.  As.  the  reason  of 

u   2  all 


29*  THE    DOCTRINE        [Book  L 

all  this  serves  to  illustrate  what  is  here  advanced  con 
cerning  the  nature  of  eloquence^  I  shall  endeavour  to 
explain  it.  The  ideas  arising  from  the  knowledge 
of  the  true  God,  and  his  attributes,  were  familiar 
to  Moses ;  and  whenever  ideas  are  familiar,  they  raise 
no  emotion ;  consequently,  the  expression  of  such, 
ideas  will  naturally  be  cold  and  simple.  There  is 
the  utmost  simplicity  in  the  words— God  said,  Let 
there  be  light,  and  there  teas  light :  and  nothing  but 
their  simplicity  would  be  seen  or  felt  by  a  Jewish 
Reader,  to  whom  the  same  religious  ideas  were  equally 
familiar.  But  let  a  Greek,  brought  up  and  educated 
in  the  grovelling  and  puerile  notions  which  his  national 
Theology  produced  and  supported,  let  such  a  one,  I 
say,  raise  himself  with  pain,  by  the  strong  effort  of  a 
superior  genius,. 

"  To  the  first  Good,  first  Perfect,  and  first  Fair," 

the  new  ideas,  with  which  his  mind  is  warmed  and 
enlarged  by  the  knowledge  of  the  true  God  and  his 
Attributes,  naturally  produce  admiration ;  and  admi 
ration  in  a  Genius-,  is  the  parent  of  suUbne  expression. 
So  that  when  the  subject  is  Creation,  his  point  will  be 
to  convey  the  highest  idea  of  Omnipotence :  but  the 
effect  of  divine  power,  immediately  following  its  vo 
lition,  gives  that  highest  idea :  therefore,  in  the  midst 
of  his  sublime  conceptions,  he  will  hardly  think  of  any 
other  words  to  convey  them  than — God  said,  Let 
tfare  be  light,  and  there  icas  light.  And  every  Greek 
Reader,  to  whom  the  ideas  of  true  Theology  were  as 
novel  and  unfamiliar  as  they  were  to  the  Writer,  would 
naturally  esteem  that  expression,  which  so  graphically 
describes  the  instantaneous  production  of  Omnipo 
tence,  to  be  infinitely  SUBLIME. 

Apply  all  this  to  the  Books  of  the  NEW  TESTA- 

*     1  MENT, 


Chap.  IX.]  OF    GRACE.  293 

MEXT,  an  authorized  collection,  professedly  designed 
for  the  rule  and  direction  of  mankind.  Now  such  a 
rule  demanded  that  it  should  be  inspired  of  God. 
But  inspired  writing,  the  Objectors  say,  implies  the 
most  perfect  eloquence.  What  human  model  then  was 
the  Holy  Ghost  to  follow?  And  a  human  model,  of 
arbitrary  construction,  k  must  needs  be,  because  there 
was  no  other:  Or  if  there  were  another,  it  would 
never  suit  the  purpose,  which  was  to  make  an  im 
pression  on  the  minds  end  affections ;  and  this  im 
pression,  such  an  eloquence  only  as  that  which  had 
gained  the  popular  ear  could  effect.  Should  there 
fore  the  eastern  eloquence  be  employed  ?  But  this 
would  be  too  inflated  and  gigantic  for  the  West. 
Should  it  be  the  western  ?  But  this  would  be  too  cold 
and  torpid  for  the  East.  Or  suppose  the  generic  elo 
quence  of  the  more  polished  Nations  was  to  be  pre 
ferred,  Which  species  of  it  was  to  be  employed?  The 
rich  exuberance  of  the  Asiatic  Greeks,  or  the  dry 
conciseness  of  the  Spartans?  The  pure  and  poignant 
ease  and  flowing  sweetness  of  the  Attic  modulation, 
or  the  strength  and  grave  severity  of  the  Roman  tone? 
Or  should  all  give  way  to  that  African  torrent,  which 
arose  from  the  fermented  mixture  of  the  dregs  of 
Greece  and  Italy,  and  soon  after  overflowed  the 
Church  with  theological  conceits  in  a  sparkling  luxu- 
dancy  of  thought,  and  a  sombrous  rankness  of  expres 
sion?  Thus  various  were  the  specieses !  all  as  much 
decried  by  a  different  Genus,  and  each  as  much  dis 
liked  by  a  different  Species,  as  the  eloquence  of  the 
remotest  East  and  West,  by  one  another. 

But  it  will  be  said,  Are  there  not  some  more  sub 
stantial  principles  of  eloquence,  common  to  all  ? — » 
Without  doubt,  there  are. — Why  then  should  not 
these  have  been  employed,  to  do  credit  to  the  Apos- 

u  3  tolic 


294  THE  DOCTRINE        [Book  I. 

tolic  inspiration?  For  good  reasons:  respecting  both  the 
Speaker  and  the  Hearers.  For  what  is  eloquence  but  a 
persuasive  turn  given  to  the  elocution,  to  supply  that 
inward,  that  conscious  persuasion  of  the  Speaker,  so 
necessary  to  gain  a  fair  hearing  ?  But  the  first  Preachers 
of  the  Gospel  did  not  need  a  succedaneum  to  that 
inward  conscious  persuasion !  And  what  is  the  end 
of  eloquence,  even  when  it  extends  no  further  than 
to  those  more  general  principles,  but  to  stifle  reason, 
and  inflame  the  passions?  But  the  propagation  of 
Christian  Truths  indispensably  requires  the  aid  of 
Ileason,  and  requires  no  other  human  aid.  And 
Reason  can  never  be  fairly  and  vigorously  exerted 
but  in  that  favourable  interval  which  precedes  the 
appeal  to  the  passions.  These  were  the  causes  which 
forced  the  Masters  of  Eloquence  to  confess,  that  the 
utmost  perfection  of  their  art  consists  in  keeping  it 
concealed ;  for  that  the  ostentation  of  it  seemed  to 
indicate  the  absence  of  Truth — Ubicunque  ars  osten- 
datur,  says  the  most  candid  and  able  of  them  all, 
veritas  abesse  vickatur*.  Hence  so  many  various 
precepts  to  make  their  most  artificial  periods  appear 
artless.  Now  surely  that  was  a  very  suspicious  in 
strument  for  Heaven-directed  Men,  which,  to  preserve 
its  credit,  must  pretend  absence,  and  labour  to  keep 
out  of  sight. 

What,  therefore,  do  our  deas  of  fit  and  right  tell 
us  is  required  in  the  style  of  an  universal  Law  ?  Cer 
tainly  no  more  than  this — To  employ  those  aids 
v/hich  are  common  to  all  Language  as  such ;  and  to 
reject  what  is  peculiar  to  each,  as  they  are  casually 
circumstanced.  And  what  are  these  aids  but  CLEAR 
NESS  arid  PRECISION?  By  these,  the  mind  and  senti 
ments  of  the  Composer  are  intelligibly  conveyed  to 
the  Reader.  These  qualities  are  essential  to  language, 

*  Quint.  1.  ix.  c.  3. 

as 


Chap.  IX.]  OF   GRACE.  295 

as  it  is  distinguished  from  jargon :  they  are  eternally 
the  same,  and  independent  on  custom  or  fashion. 
To  give  a  language  clearness,  was  the  office  of  Phi 
losophy  ;  to  give  it  precision,  was  the  office  of  Grammar. 
Definition  performs  the  first  service  by  a  resolution  of 
the  ideas  which  make  up  the  terms ;  Syntaxis  per 
forms  the  second  by  a  combination  of  the  several  parts 
of  speech  into  a  systematic  congruity :  these  are  the 
very  things  in  language  which  are  least  positive,  as 
being  conducted  on  the  principles  of  Metaphysics 
and  Logic.  Whereas,  all  besides,  from  the  very 
power  of  the  elements,  and  signification  of  the  terms, 
to  the  tropes  and  figures  of  Composition,  are  arbi 
trary;  and,  what  is  more,  as  these  are  a  deviation 
from  those  principles  of  Metaphysics  and  Logic, 
they  are  frequently  vicious.  This,  the  great  Master, 
quoted  above,  freely  confessed),  where  speaking  of 
that  ornamented  speech,  which  he  calls  c-xij/xaja  hsfaus, 
he  makes  the  following  confession  and  apology— 
"  esset  enim  omne  Schema  VITIUM,  si  non  peteretur, 
"  sed  accideret,  Verum  auctoritate,  vetustate,  con- 
"  suetudine,  plerumque  detenditur,  sajpe  etiam  RA- 
"  TIONE  QUADAM.  Idcoque  cum  sit  a  simplici 
"  rectoque  loquendi  genere  derlexa,  virtus  est,  si 
"  habet  PROBABILE  ALIQUID  quod  sequatur  *." 

Now  these  qualities  of  clearness  and  precision,  so 
necessary  to  the  communication  of  our  ideas,  emi 
nently  distinguish  the  writers  of  the  New  Testament ; 
insomuch  that  it  might  be  easily  shewn,  that  whatever 
difficulties  occur  in  the  sacred  volumes,  they  do  not 
arise  from  any  imperfection  in  the  mode  of  conveying 
their  ideas,  occasioned  by  this  local  or  nominal  bar 
barity  of  style ;  but  either  from  the  sublime  or  obscure 
nature  of  the  things  conveyed  to  the  reader  by  words  • 

*  Quint.  1.  ix.  c.  3. 

u  4  or 


296  THE    DOCTRINE        [Book  I. 

or  from  the  purposed  conciseness  of  the  writer ;  who, 
in  the  occasional  mention  of  any  matter  unrelated,  or 
not  essential,  to  the  dispensation,  always  affects  a  stu 
died  brevity. 

But  further;  suppose  that,  in  some  cases,  an  au 
thentic  Scripture,  designed  for  a  religious  rule,  de 
manded  this  quality  of  local  eloquence  (for  that,  in 
general,  it  is  not  required,  I  have  fully  shewn  above) ; 
let  this,  I  say,  be  supposed,  yet  still  it  would  not  affect 
the  case  in  hand,  since  it  would  be  altogether  unsuitable 
to  the  peculiar  genius  of  the  GOSPEL.  It  might  easily 
be  known  to  have  been  the  purpose  of  Providence 
(though  such  purpose  had  not  been  expressly  declared), 
that  the  Gospel  should  bear  all  the  substantial  marks 
of  its  divine  Original;  as  well  in  the  circumstances  of 
its  promulgation,  as  in  the  course  of  its  progress.  To 
this  end,  the  appointed  Ministers  of  its  conveyance  1 
were  persons,  mean  and  illiterate,  and  chosen  from 
amongst  the  lowest  of  the  people ;  that  when  Sceptics 
and  Unbelievers  saw  the  world  converted  by  the  fool 
ishness  of  preaching,  as  the  learned  Apostle,  in  great 
humility,  thinks  fit  to  call  it,  they  might  have  no  pretence 
to  ascribe  the  success,  to  the  parts,  the  station,  or  the 
authority  of  the  Preachers.  Now  had  the  language, 
infused  into  these  illiterate  men,  been  the  sublime  of 
Plato,  or  the  eloquence  of  Tully,  Providence  would 
have  appeared  to  counteract  its  own  measures,  and 
defeat  the  purpose  best  calculated  to  advance  its  glory. 
But  God  is  zvise,  though  mans  a  fool.  And  the  course 
of  his  Wisdom  was  here,  as  every  where  else,  uniform 
and  constant.  It  not  only  chose  the  weakest  Ministers 
of  his  Will,  but  kept  out  of  their  hands  that  powerful 
weapon  of  contorted  words,  which  their  adversaries 
might  so  easily  have  wrested  to  the  dishonour  of  the 
Gospel.  So  much  was  Dr.  Middleton  mistaken,  when 

besides 


Chap.  IX.]  OF   GRACE.  297 

besides  clearness  (which  he  might  be  allowed  to  expect) 
lie  supposes  purity,  nobleness,  and  pathetic  affection, 
to  be  qualities  inseparable  from  an  inspired  writing. 
St.  Paul,  who,  amongst  these  simple  instruments,  was, 
for  the  same  wise  purposes,  made  an  exception  to  the 
general  choice,  yet  industriously  prosecuted  that  sub 
lime  view,  for  the  sake  of  which  the  choice  was  made ; 
by  rejecting  all  other  weapons  but  those  of  the  Spirit, 
to  spread  abroad  the  Conquests  of  the  Son  of  God. 
My  speech  (says  he)  and  my  preaching  teas  not  with 
hit  icing  words  of  man  8  wisdom,  but  in  the  demonstra 
tion  of  the  Spirit  and  of  Power.  As  much  as  to  say, 
"  My  success  was  not  owing  to  the  sophistical  elo 
quence  of  Rhetoricians,  but  to  the  supernatural  powers, 
with  which  I  was  endowed,  of  interpreting  Prophecies 
and  working  Miracles. "  lie  subjoins  the  reason  of 
his  use  of  these-  means — that  their  faith  should  not 
f<t and  in  the  wisdom  of  men,  but  in  the  power  of  God  \ 
i.  e.  Be  convened  not  by  force  of  Philosophy  and 
Eloquence,  but  of  the  supernatural  gifts  of  the  Spirit : 
Therefore  (saitli  he  again)  God  hath  chosen  the  foolish 
things  of  the  JVorld  to  confound  the  wise ;  and  the. 
weak  things  of  the  Hrorld  to  confound  the  mighty  *. 
And  lest  it  should  be  said,  that  this  was  an  affectation 
of  despising  advantages  which  they  themselves  could 
not  reach,  it  pleased  Providence  that  this  declaration 
should  be  made,  not  by  one  of  the  more  sordid  and 
idiotic  of  the  number:  but  by  Him,  to  whom  i 
nature  and  discipline  had  given  powers  to  equal  even 
the  heights  of  (freek  and  Roman  elocution.  For  v,e 
see,  by  what  now  and  then  accidentally  flames  out  in 
the  fervor  of  his  reasoning,  that  he  had  a  strong  and 
clear  discernment,  a  quick  and  lively  imagi&atioQ,  \\\\A 
an  extensive  and  intimate  acquaintance  with  those 
*  1  Cor.  ii.  4. 

Masters 


298  THE   DOCTRINE        [Book  I. 

Masters  in  moral  painting,  the  Greek  Sophists  and 
Philosophers :  all  which  he  proudly  sacrificed  to  the 
glory  of  the  everlasting  Gospel.  Nor  does  he  appear 
to  have  been  conscious  of  any  inconsistency  between 
an  inspired  language  and  its  local  barbarity  of  style  : 
for,  having  had  occasion,  in  this  very  Epistle,  to  remind 
the  Corinthians  of  the  abundance  of  spiritual  grace 
bestowed  upon  him,  he  says,  /  thank  my  God,  I  speak 
with  tongues  more  than  ycu  all* \  and  yet  he  tells 
them  that  he  is  rude  in  speech  f.  Which  apparent 
inconsistency  the  reader  may  accept,  if  he  pleases,  for 
a  further  proof  of  the  truth  of  what  has  been  above 
delivered,  concerning  the  natural  condition  of  an  in 
spired  language. 

Thus  we  see,  how  unsuitable  this  quality  of  local 
eloquence  would  be  to  the  peculiar  genius  of  the 
Gospel.  Yet  as  there  is,  in  the  Old  Testament,  much 
of  this  ornament  of  style,  and  more  imagined,  it  may 
not  be  improper  to  explain  the  reason  of  this  diversity, 
and  shew  how  consistent  the  use  of  it  is,  in  those 
places,  with  the  principles  already  laid  down. 

1.  First,  then,  we  may  observe  that  Judaism  was 
not  an  universal  religion,  but  instituted  for  the  use  of 
a  single  people ;  so  that  none  of  the  inconveniencies 
mentioned  above  of  a  local  eloquence  could  arise  from 
the  use  of  it  in  that  religion. 

2.  The  Jewish  religion  had  a  public  part  % ;   and 
consequently  abounded  in  such  Rites  and  Ceremonies, 
to  which  an  ornamented  style  was  well  adapted. 

3.  The  subjects  of  several  of  the  Books  of  the  Old 
Testament  are  in  their  nature  poetical,  several  rhetori 
cal,  and  so  seem  to  have  demanded  a  Style  suitable  to 
their  genius. 

*  i  Cor.  xiv.  18.  f  2  Cor.  xi.  6. 

J  See  Div.  Leg.  Book  v. 


Chap.  X.]  OF    GRACE.  299 


CHAP.    X. 


AND  now  enough  hath  been  said  to  make  a  just 
-estimate  of  the  value  of  those  objections  which  two 
celebrated  writers  *  have  inforced,  with  all  their  art 
and  address,  against  the  inspiration  of  the  New  Testa 
ment,  from  its  local  barbarity  of  style.  Dr.  Middleton'fl 
objection  hath  been  considered  already.  I  shall  chuse 
to  close  this  first  part  of  my  discourse  with  an  exami 
nation  of  that  still  more  ingenious  objection  of  the  noble 
Author  of  the  CHARACTERISTICS;  who  hath  employed 
all  the  powers  of  his  wit  and  eloquence  to  expose  the 
want  of  these  qualities  in  the  sacred  Volumes. 

"It  is  NO  OTHERWISE  (says  his  Lordship) 

"  in  the  grammatical  art  of  Characters  and  PAINTED 
"  SPEECH,  than  in  the  art  of  painting  itself.  I  have 
"  seen,  in  certain  Christian  Churches,  an  ancient  piece 
"  or  two,  affirmed,  on  the  solemn  faith  of  priestly 
"  tradition,  to  have  been  angelically  and  divinely 
"  wrought  by  a  supernatural  hand  and  sacred  pencil. 
"  Had  the  piece  happened  to  be  of  a  hand  like 
"  Raphael's,  I  could  have  found  nothing  certain  to 
"  oppose  to  the  tradition.  But  having  observed  the 
"  whole  STYLE  and  manner  of  the  pretended  heavenly 
"  workmanship,  to  be  so  indifferent  as  to  vary,  in 
"  many  particulars,  from  the  truth  of  art,  I  pre- 
"  sumed,  within  myself,  to  beg  pardon  of  the  tradition, 
"  and  assert,  confidently^  that  //'  the  pencil  had  been 
"  heaven-guided  it  cuuld  never  have  bcoi  so  lame  hi 
"  it's  performance :  it  being  a  mere  contradiction  to 
"  all  divine  and  moral  truth,  that  &  celestial  hand)  sub- 

*  Dr.  MJddlttoii  and  Lord  Sliuftesbury. 

"  mitting 


300  THE    DOCTRINE  [Book  I. 

"  mitting  itself  to  the  rudiments  of  a  human  art, 
il  should  sin  against  the  art  itself,  and  express  false- 
4<  hood  and  error  instead  of  justness  and  proportion  *." 

This  tale  of  St.  Lukes  painting,  like  the  story  of 
the  DELPHIC  ORACLES,  needs  no  application.  Every 
one  sees  that  it  is  given  to  discredit  the  inspiration  of 
holy  Scripture.  But  as  confidently  as  his  Lordship 
says,  he  draws  his  conclusions  from  it,  he  gives  them 
no  other  support  than  this  mistaken  conceit,  which  lie 
erects  into  an  axiom :  That  it  /.?  no  otherwise  in  the 
grammatical  art  of  characters  and  painted  speech,  than 
in  the  art  of  painting  itself:  or,  in  other  words,  that 
the  painted  speech  of  Characters  which  represent 
ideas,  and  the  painted  images  of  things,  are  perform 
ances  of  the  same  kind.  Now,  in  examining  their 
natures  by  the  principles  of  human  speech,  before  laid 
down  and  explained,  it  appears  that  they  are  of  very 
different  kinds,  having  nothing  in  common  but  the  office 
of  giving  information,  truly  and  clearly ,  one  of  them 
by  representing  the  images  of  corporeal  things ;  the 
other  by  representing  the  incorporeal  ideas  of  the 
speaker's  or  writer's  mind.  And  what  tiling  is  there, 
in  art  or  nature,  which  docs  not  hold  something  in 
common  with  another?  But  the  difference  between 
these  is  indeed  no  less  than  between  things  NATURAL 
and  tilings  POSITIVE,  between  constitutional  and  arbi 
trary;  painting  being  IMITATION,  and  WORDS  only 
SYMBOLS.  The  subject  of  \\\Q  first,  constant,  unva- 
riable,  necessary ;  as  having  its  archetype  in  nature : 
the  other  unstable,  shifting,  and  capricious,  as  depend 
ing  for  its  existence  on  the  human  will,  under  the 
direction  of  fancy  and  caprice.  In  PAINTING  there  is, 
properly  speaking,  but  one  true  style,  and  that  is  an  exact 
imitation  of  nature.  In- SPEECH  there  are  as  many 

*  Charact,  viii.  p.  230, 

true 


Chap.  X.]  OF    GRACE.  301 

true  styles  as  there  are  tempers  and  humours,  customs 
and  fashions,  amongst  men.  Eloquence,  or  truth  <f 
style,  in  speaking  or  writing,  being  nothing  else  but 
the  adapting-  the  terms  of  human  speech  to  the  various 
conceptions,  fancies,  and  affections  of  the  hearers ;  so 
that,  as  in  'painting  there  is  but  one  true  style,  and  that 
REAL,  because  an  imitation  of  nature;  in  speech  there 
are  many  true  styles,  Init  all  FANTASTIC,  because  ail 
are  the  creatures  of  arbitrary  fashion. 

» 

The  noble  Author  himself  seemed  to  suspect  that 
these  two  things  had  but  a  slender  connexion  in  nature, 
and  therefore  endeavoured  to  strengthen  the  tie  by  art. 
Hence  his  figurative  expressions  of  FAINTED  SPEECH,, 
for  writing,  in  order  to  clap  up  a  forced  alliance 
between  writing  and  painting ;  and,  on  the  contrary, 
STYLE,  for  manner  of  painting;  to  bring  painting  and 
writing  related.  A  favourable  Critic  may  possibly  say, 
that  the  noble  Writer  had  no  other  purpose,  in  the  use 
of  these  elegant  figures,  than  to  ornament  his  language. 
Perhaps  not.  It  is  then  only  a  remarkable  example  of 
the  truth  of  an  observation  made  above :  "  that  the 
principal  end  of  eloquence,  as  it  is  employed  in  human 
affairs,  is  to  mislead  reason,  and  to  cajole  the  fancy 
and  affections." 

On  the  whole  then,  all  the  conclusion  we  can  reason 
ably  draw  from  this  noble  Author's  remarks  on  HKA- 
VKNLY  WORKMANSHIP  in  painting  and  in  speech,  is- 
only  this,  that  if  an  inspired  Painter  were  to  give  us 
a  Picture,  it  would  indeed  equal  or  excel  the  pencil 
of  Raphael ;  because  here  was  a  real  Archetype  to- 
work  by,  that  is  to  say,  NATUUE:  but,  if  we  may 
credit  Reason,  whose  dictates,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  arc 
not  always  those  of  his  Lordship,  an  inspired  Writer 
would  receive  no  more  assistance  from  Heaven  in  his 
expression,  than  what  was  necessary  to  give  his  speech 

the 


302      THE   DOCTRINE  OF  GRACE. 

the  essential  qualities  of  all  language,  namely,  CLEAR 
NESS  and  PRECISION  ;  because  here  was  no  real  arche 
type  to  follow ;  the  various  modes  of  eloquence  being 
mostly  fantastic,  as  existing  only  in  capricious  cus 
tom;  and  therefore  unworthy  the  notice  of  a  ^divine 
Inspirer. 

I  have  now  gone  through  the  first  part  of  my  Dis 
course  ;  which  proposed  to  consider  the  Office  and 
Operations  of  the  Holy  Spirit  as  THE  GUIDE  OF 
TRUTH,  who  clears  and  enlightens  the  Understanding. 
In  this  part,  I  have  endeavoured  to  vindicate  his  first 
Descent  and  his  inspiration  of  holy  Scripture ;  1  have 
distinguished  the  mode  of  that  inspiration ;  I  have 
explained  the  character  of  an  inspired  language;  I 
have  inquired  into  the  nature  of  human  eloquence, 
and  have  carefully  examined  the  force  of  our  free  Rea- 
j  on  every  one  of  these  distinct  heads. 


THE 


DOCTRINE    OF    GRACE; 


OR, 


THE  OFFICE  AND   OPERATIONS  OF  THE 
HOLY  SPIRIT. 


BOOK    II. 


CHAP.    I. 

I  NOW  proceed  to  the  second  branch  of  my  Dis 
course,  which  is,  to  consider  the  Holy  Spirit  under  the 
idea  of  THE  COMFORTER,  who  purifies  and  supports 
tt^e  Will. 

And  here,  his  divine  power  manifested  itself  in  the 
same  miraculous  Operations.  Sacred  Antiquity  is  very 
large  and  full  in  its  accounts  of  the  sudden  and  entire 
change  made  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  in  the  dispositions 
and  manners  of  those  whom  it  had  enlightened ;  instan 
taneously  effacing  all  their  evil  habits,  and  familiarizing 
their  practice  to  the  performance  of  every  virtuous  and 
pious  action. 

To  this  illustrious  and  triumphant  conviction  of  the 
truth  of  Christianity,  the  very  enemies  arid  persecutors 
of  our  holy  Faith  have  been  forced  to  bear  witness  : 
not  only  in  the  serious  accounts  which  some  *  of  them 
have  given  of  the  innocence  and  virtue  of  PRIMITIVE 

*   Pliny  the  younger,  Suetonius,  Tacitus,  Sec. 

CHRIS- 


304  THE    DOCTRINE         [Book  I L 

CHRISTIANITY  ;  but  even  in  the  mockery  and  ridicule 
of  others  *,  on  the  subject  of  the  boasted  virtue  of 
water-baptism ;  which  was  then  commonly  accom 
panied  with,  and  sometimes  preceded  by,  these  extra 
ordinary  effusions  of  grace  from  the  Comforter. 
"  Come  here  (say  these  unhappy  Libertines)  and  see 
the  amazing  efficacy  of  Christian-baptism  !  whoever  is 
iinmerged  in  this  water,  though  before,  he  were  an 
adulterer,  a  practised  thief  or  murderer,  rises  cleansed 
and  purified  from  all  his  crimes ;  and  commences,  on 
the  instant,  a  life  of  temperance,  of  justice,  and  of 
charity."  Thus  did  these  impious  scorners  endeavour 
to  disguise  their  chagrin  at  the  triumphs  of  the  Spirit 
over  Vice  and  Paganism,  by  a  sarcastic  parody  of  the 
grateful  exultations  of  the  Christian  Pastors.  In  truth, 
it  was  all  they  had  to  say;  for,  after  this,  they  were 
reduced  to  seek  a  forced  consolation  in  the  possibility 
that  some  NATURAL  CAUSE  had  produced  so  extra 
ordinary  a  phenomenon. 

It  may  be  worth  while,  therefore,  to  inquire  whether 
any  such  cause  can  be  reasonably  assigned. 

The  enemies  of  our  Faith  hope  to  find  it  in  FANA- 
TICIS:\I  and  SUPERSTITION,  the  two  Passions  which 
the  strong  impression  of  a  new  Religion  begets,  by  its 
HOPES  and  FEARS,  on  the  mind  of  man. 

Let  us  see,  whether  either,  or  both  of  these,  will 
account  for  so  sudden  and  lasting  a  conversion,  from 
vice  and  corruption,  to  a  life  of  sanctity  and  virtue. 

SUPERSTITION,  which  only  depraves  the  Reason, 
without  making  any  impression  on  those  faculties  of 
the  mind  that  most  incline  the  Will  to  a  new  bias, 
never  effects  any  considerable  change  in  the  MANNERS. 
Its  utmost  force  is  but  just  enough  to  persuade  us, 
that  an  exact  attention  to  the  officious  ceremonies  of 

*  Celsus,  Julian,  &c. 

Religion 


Chap.  I.]  OP    G  R A C  E.  305 

Religion  will  be  of  force  to  secure  us  from  the  evils 
denounced  against  vice  and  immorality ;  or,  at  least, 
that  some  transient  acts  of  penitence,  as  the  approaches 
of  Death  alarm  us,  will  be  sufficient  to  entitle  us  to 
the  reward  of  a  pure  and  well-spent  Life. 

FANATICISM,  indeed,  jshakes  and  agitates  the  mind 
with  greater  violence :  and  by  instigating  those  facul 
ties  which  most  influence  the  Will,  frequently  forces 
the  Manners  from  their  bent ;  and  sometimes  effaces, 
or  obscures,  the  strongest  impressions  of  custom  and 
nature.  But  this  extraordinary  fervour,  though  always 
violent,  is  rarely  lasting :  never  so  long  as  to  turn  the 
new  System  into  a  habit.  So  that  when  its  rage  sub 
sides,  as  it  very  soon  does,  but  where  it  drives  the 
unhappy  victim  into  downright  madness,  the  late  im 
pressed  bias  on  the  Will  keeps  abating,  till  all  the 
former  habitudes  recover  their  relaxed  tc.it. 

This  is  confirmed,  not  only  by  the  general  History 
of  past  Fanaticism,  but  likewise  of  the  present,  where 
we  commonly  see  the  final  issue  of  a  sudden  conver 
sion  to  be,  either  a  return  to  an  open  profligacy  of 
manners,  or  a  deep  hypocritical  dissimulation  of  them. 

But  now  if  we  look  into  the  history  of  those  early 
Converts,  we  shall  find  that  their  Virtue,  from  the 
very  first  impression  of  it,  had  all  the  ease,  sobriety, 
and  moderation  of  a  settled  habit ;  in  this  they  perse 
vered  ;  and  adding  grace  to  grace,  they  went  on, 
through  life,  in  one  constant  tenor,  from  the  first  bap 
tismal  profession  of  their  Faith  by  water,  to  the  last 
awful  confirmation  of  it  in  their  blood.  A  dreadful 
period!  when  Nature,  by  the  very  shock,  and  in  the 
struggle,  it  then  suffers,  becomes  enabled  to  dissipate 
all  the  fumes  of  mental,  as  it  is  frequently  observed 
to  do,  of  corporeal  intoxication.  This  it  did,  in  the 
famous  case  of  the  virtuous  SA  VAN  A  no  LA  of  Florence ; 

VOL.  VIIL  X  whose 


THE   DOCTRINE       [Book  IT. 

whose  story  is  so  finely  told  by  Guicciardini  in  the 
second  and  third  hooks  of  his  History.  This  Man,  a 
genuine  Fanatic,  if  ever  there  were  any,  had  assumed 
the  personage  of  a  Prophet  and  inspired  Preacher. 
A  Character  which  he  had  long  and  successfully  sus 
tained  ;  taken  up  amidst  the  distresses  and  distractions 
of  his  Country,  and,  without  doubt,  occasioned  by 
them.  But,  losing  his  credit  in  the  new  Revolutions 
of  Italy,  and  being  brought  by  his  enemies  to  the 
stake,  he  died,  after  having  disavowed  his  pretensions, 
on  the  rack, — he  died,  I  say,  sullen  and  silent,  without 
any  remaining  symptom  of  his  former  Enthusiasm. 

Nor  could  this  sudden  conversion  of  the  first  Chris 
tians  be  the  effect  of  MERE  rational  conviction.  We 
know  it  to  be  morally  impossible  for  Reason,  however 
refined  and  strengthened  by  true  Philosophy,  to  root 
out,  on  the  instant,  the  inveterate  habits  of  Vice.  All 
that  this  magisterial  Faculty  can  do  is,  by  constantly 
repeating  her  dictates,  and  inforcing  her  conclusions, 
gradually  to  win  over  the  Will;  till,  by  little  and 
little,  the  mind  accustoms  itself  to  another  set  of  ideas, 
productive  of  other  practices  and  other  habits.  A 
work  of  time  and  labour !  as  those  good  men  have 
sufficiently  experienced,  who,  on  a  mere  rational  con 
viction,  have  attempted  and  perfected  a  change  in 
their  lives  and  manners.  When  therefore  we  see  the 
deepest  impressions  of  evil  custom,  and  the  darkest 
stains  of  corrupted  nature,  thus  suddenly  wiped  out 
and  effaced,  to  what  must  we  ascribe  so  total  a  re 
form,  but  to  the  all-powerful  operation  of  Grace  ? 

But  it  may  be  objected,  "  That  there  are  instances 
where  Enthusiasm  alone  hath  kept  men  steady  in  the 
practice  of  that  virtue  which  a  certain  fanatic  turn  of 
mind  first  recommended."  Doubtless  there  have  been 
many  good  people,  who,  either  through  the  weakness 

of 


Chap.  II.]  OF   GRACE.  307 

of  their  reason,  or  the  force  of  their  more  refined 
passions,  have  been  hurried  into  fanatic  fervours, 
which  have  supported  and  confirmed  them  in  their 
previous  innocence  of  manners.  But  even  here  we 
have  sufficient  marks  to  distinguish  these  better  sorts 
of  Enthusiasts,  from  such  of  the  first  Christian  Con 
fessors,  who  were  in  the  happy  circumstance  of  being 
found  innocent,  when  they  were  led  into  the  prac 
tice  of  all  virtue  by  the  Holy  Spirit :  whose  office, 
as  we  have  said,  consisted  in  this  gracious  combina 
tion,  to  enlighten  the  understanding,  and  to  rectify 
the  will.  Now,  that  genial  splendour  which  con 
ducted  the  first  Christians  into  the  knowledge  of  all 
truth,  sufficiently  disclosed  the  divine  Inspirer  of  all 
righteousness.  But  we  see  none  of  that  shining  light 
ordained  and  employed  to  gild  the  good  works  of 
Grace,  in  the  morals  of  innocent  Enthusiasts.  On 
the  contrary,  we  often  find  a  more  than  ordinary  igno 
rance  ;  and  sometimes,  even  an  incapacity  of  making 
rational  conclusions. 

Thus  was  the  first  part  of  the  promise  to  send  the 
COMFORTER,  fulfilled. 


CHAP.    II. 

THE  other  part,  that  HE  SHOULD  ABIDE  WITH 
us  FOR  EVER,  comes  next  to  be  considered.  We, 
have  observed  how  this  likewise  hath  been  verified 
by  the  sure  deposit  of  the  Spirit  of  Truth  in  sacred 
Scripture.  Yet  this  is  not  the  whole  of  the  comple 
tion.  His  present  influence,  together  with  the  fruits 
of  the  past,  make  the  entire  subject  of  the  promise. 
Hence  we  conclude,  that  he  abides  with  the  Church 

x  ^  for 


308  THE    DOCTRINE        [Book  II. 

for  ever,  as  well  PERSONALLY  in  his  office  of  Com 
forter^  in  supporting  the  Will,  as  VIRTUALLY  in  his 
office  of  Enlightener9  in  directing  the  Understanding. 

The  only  question  will  be,  whether,  from  the  pri 
mitive  ages  down  to  these  latter  times,  he  hath  coa- 
tinued  to  exercise  either  part  of  his  office  in  the  same 
extraordinary  manner  in  which  he  entered  upon  it, 
when  his  descent  on  the  Apostles  was  accompanied 
•with  all  the  sensible  marks  of  the  Divinity. 

And  this,  as  it  tends  to  the  decision  of  more  than 
one  important  question  (not  only  the  superstitious 
claim  of  CHURCH  MIRACLES,  but  the  fanatic  pretences 
to  DIVINE  INFLUENCES)  should  be  considered  more 
at  large. 

But  here,  I  shall  venture  to  invert  the  method  of 
those  Divines,  who,  in  their  inquiries  concerning  God's 
Dispensations,  endeavour  to  prove  those  supposed 
facts,  which  they  have  preconceived,  from  the  Jitness 
which  they  pretend  to  have  discovered ;  that  is,  having 
determined  of  what  is  Jit  for  God  to  do ;  they,  on  the 
credit  of  this,  maintain  that  he  hath  done  it.  On  the 
contrary,  I  deem  it  more  rational,  as  well  as  modest, 
first  to  inquire  of  Scripture,  what  God  hath  done: 
and,  when  that  is  known,  it  will  be  then  time  enough 
to  explain  tliejitness  of  his  doings. 

Let  us  see  now,  what  holy  Scripture  hath  delivered 
concerning  the  DURATION  of  the  extraordinary  en 
dowments  of  the  Holy  Spirit :  Which,  whether  they 
rested  in  the  Recipient,  and  manifested  themselves  in 
Grace  and  Knowledge  transcending  the  powers  of  hu 
manity  ;  or  whether  they  extended  outwards,  in  the 
gifts  of  healing,  to  the  relief  of  others'  infirmities, 
may,  with  equal  propriety,  be  called  and  be  accounted 
MIRACULOUS.  In  the  one  case,  the  gifted  person 
was  passive ;  in  the  other,  active* 

Now 


Chap.  IL]  OF    GRACE.  309 

Now  the  Holy  Spirit,  by  the  mouth  of  Paul,  has, 
I  presume,  determined  this  question  for  us,  where,  in 
the  passage  quoted  before,  on  another  occasion,  he 
recapitulates  the  various  prerogatives  of  the  Apostolic 
age.  This  decisive  passage  is  in  these  words — Charity 
never  faileth:  but  vhJher  there  be  PROPHECIES, 
they  shall  fail',  whether  there  be  TONGUES,  they  shall 
cease-,  whether  there  be  KNOWLEDGE,  it  shall  vanish 
away  *. 

It  was  the  Apostle's  purpose,  in  this  place,  to  exalt 
CHARITY  above  all  other  Christian  Graces;  and 
therefore,  having,  in  the  preceding  words,  shewn  its 
superiority  to  the  rest,  from  its  QUALITIES  and  attri 
butes  ;  he  proceeds  to  urge  the  advantage  still  further, 
from  the  consideration  of  its  DURABILITY — Charity 
never  faileth,  8$c. 

The  question  is,  Whether  the  superior  duration, 
here  ascribed  to  Charity  over  Prophecies,  Tongues, 
and  Knowledge,  respects  only  the  progress  of  the 
Gospel  HERE;  or  whether  it  extends  to  the  comple 
tion  of  it  in  its  triumphant  state,  HEREAFTER?  The 
common  opinion  is,  that  it  respects  another  life; 
supported,  as  should  seem,  by  the  Apostle's  inforcing 
his  argument  on  this  observation,  that  now  we  see 
through  a  glass  darkly ;  but  then  face  to  face:  now 
we  know  in  part ;  but  then  shall  we  know,  even  as 
we  are  known  f ;  where  the  different  condition  of  the 
two  states  are  plainly  set  in  opposition  to  one  another. 

But  the  other  sense  appears  to  me  to  be  the  true; 
and  gives  us  the  Apostle's  meaning  to  this  effect: 
"  The  virtue  of  Charity  is  to  accompany  the  Chris 
tian  Church  throughout  all  its  stages  here  on  earth ; 
whereas  the  gifts  of  prophecy,  of  strange  tongues,  of 
supernatural  knowledge,  are  only  transitory  graces,  be- 

*  i  Cor.  xiii.  8.  t  Ver.  12. 

x  3  stowed 


310  THE    DOCTRINE        [Book  II. 

stowed  upon  the  Church  during  its  infirm  and  infant 
state,  to  manifest  its  divine  birth,  and  to  support  it 
against  the  delusions  and  the  Powers  of  darkness.'* 

As  the  words,  considered  in  this  sense,  convey  a 
most  important  Doctrine,  viz.  the  cessation  of  the,  mi 
raculous  operations  of  the  Holy  Spirit  after  the  esta 
blishment  of  the,  Christian  faith,  and  as  this  perhaps 
is  the  only  express  declaration  of  it,  recorded  in  sacred 
Scripture ;  I  shall  endeavour  to  support  my  interpreta 
tion  by  considerations  drawn  from  its  coherence,  in 
this  sense,  and  in  this  sense  only,  with  what  precedes 
and  follows  in  the  course  of  the  Apostle's  argument. 

The  Church  of  Corinth,  though  abundantly  enriched 
with  all  divine  Graces,  would  not  yet  suffer  the  Holy 
Ghost  to  do  his  perfect  work,  in  the  enlargement  of 
the  heart  by  universal  benevolence  :  but,  elated  with 
SPIRITUAL  PRIDE  (whose  property  is  not  to  bear 
with  those  who  differ  from  us,  and  to  despise  those 
who  are  beneath  us  in  sublime  attainments),  split  and 
divided  themselves  into  opposite  Sects  and  Factions : 
And  this  unhappy  situation  not  only  rendering  all 
their  endowments  vain  and  fruitless,  but  reflecting 
dishonour  on  the  Giver  of  all  good  things,  the  Apostle 
addresses  himself  to  expose  their  folly  with  the  utmost 
of  his  force  and  vigour  of  reasoning. 

He  proves  the  superior  excellence  of  Charity  above 
all  other  spiritual  graces  whatsoever,  both  in  its 
QUALITIES  and  its  DURATION.  The  first  three 
verses  *  of  his  argument  declare  that  the  other  graces 
without  Charity,  are  neither  of  use  nor  ornament  in 
the  Christian  life :  The  next  four  f  specify  the  supe 
rior  qualities  of  Charity :  arid  the  remaining  six  \  (of 
which,  the  words  in  question  make  the  jirst  §),  con- 

*  i  Cor.  xiii.  i,  2,  3.  f  Ver.  4,  5,  6,  7. 

|  Ver,  8,  9,  ip,  11,  12,  13.      §  Ver.  8. 

sider 


Chap.  II.]  OF   GRACE.  311 

sider  Charity  under  the  single  advantage  of  its  con 
tinuance,  when  all  those  other  graces,  with  which  they 
were  so  foolishly  elated,  should  be  withdrawn.  Charity 
never  faileth  :  but  whether  there  be  Prophecies,  they 
shall  foil  ;  whether  there  be  Tongues,  they  shall  cea-se  ; 
whether  there  be  Knowledge,  it  shall  vanish  away. 
In  the  next  two  verses  *  he  gives  the  reason,  For  we 
know  in  part,  and  we  prophesy  in  part  :  but  when  that 
which  is  perfect  is  come,  then  that  which  is  in  part 
shall  be  done  away.  As  much  as  to  say  :  When  that 
CHRISTIAN  LIFE,  the  lines  of  which  are  marked  out 
by  the  Gospel,  shall,  by  the  vital  powers  of  CHARITY 
on  which  it  is  erected,  arrive  to  its  full  vigour  and 
maturity,  then  those  temporary  aids  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  (such  as  Tongues,  Prophecy,  and  Knowledge, 
•bestowed  with  a  purpose  to  subdue  the  prejudices 
and  scepticism  of  those  without,  and  to  support  the 
weakness  and  infirmities  of  those  within  ;  and  given 
too,  but  imperfectly,  in  proportion  to  the  defects  of 
the  human  Recipients)  shall,  like  the  scaffolding  of  a 
Palace  now  completed,  be  taken  down  and  removed. 
And  to  shew,  that  the  loss  of  these  things  will  be  no 
longer  regretted,  when  the  Church  hath  advanced 
from  a  state  of  Infancy  to  Manhood,  in  the  steady 
exercise  of  the  CHRISTIAN  LIFE  OF  CHARITY,  he 
illustrates  tais  truth  by  an  elegant  similitude  —  When 
I  was  a  Child,  I  spake  as  a  Child,  I  understood  as  a 
Child:  but  when  I  became  a  Man,  I  put  away  Childish 
things  f.  Yet  no  one  will  be  so  absurd  to  suppose 
that  it  was  the  Apostle's  intention  to  disgrace  these 
spiritual  Gifts  by  so  low  a  comparison.  It  was  the 
ABUSE  of  them  only  (to  which  these  Corinthians  were 
so  prone)  that  was  designed  to  be  corrected  by  it. 
But  the  Apostle,  having  represented  these  extraor- 


*  Ver.  9,  10.  f  Ver.  1J« 

x  4  dinary 


312  THE    DOCTRINE         [Book  II, 

dinary  gifts  to  be  as  defective  in  themselves  as  they 
are  contemptible  in  their  abuse,  thought  fit  to  add, 
that  this  defect  did  not  proceed  from  any  penurious 
influx  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  but  from  the  narrowness  of 
the  human  recipient;  the  passages  to  the  Soul  being 
so  clogged  up  with  corporeal  obstructions,  as  to  be 
unable  to  convey  to  the  Sensory  any  more  than  an 
oblique  glimpse  of  the  SOVEREIGN  GOOD  :  But  that, 
when  we  have  shaken  off  this  mortal  incumbrance, 
and  regained  the  regions  of  light  and  liberty,  we  shall 
then  intuitively  comprehend  the  whole  economy  both 
of  NATURE  and  of  GRACE.  For  now  (says  he)  we 
see  through  a  glass  darkly  *,  but  then  face  to  face  : 
Now  I  know  in  part,  even  as  also  I  am  known.  And 
this  observation,  which  evidently  respects  a  future 
state,  led  men  to  understand  the  Apostle  as  taking  in 
another  life,  on  which  to  found  that  superior  duration 


y  ya£  apli  &'  lffo<iflpa  tv  aitiy  petit  —  the  seeing  through,  or 
in  a  glass,  by  (in  Enigma,  seems,  at  first  view,  an  odd  and  incon 
gruous  expression,  since  information  by  a  speculum,  of  what  kind 
soever,  conveys  the  natural  or  real  image  of  the  reflected  object, 
though  that  image  be  seen  only  faintly  and  obscurely.  But  an 
Enigma  is  not  the  natural  image  of  the  object  conveyed,  but  an 
arbitrary  mark,  which,  under  very  foreign  ideas,  is  mysteriously 
made  to  stand  for  the  natural  image.  Yet,  if  we  attend  carefully 
to  the  subject,  we  shall  find  the  expression  to  be  very  elegant. 
The  Apostle  is  comparing  the  knowledge  of  spiritual  things, 
gained  here,  with  that  knowledge  which  we  shall  gain  hereafter. 
Now  all  our  present  knowledge  being  conveyed  through  the  Organs 
of  Sense,  the  Apostle,  by  his  lv  My  petit,  would  insinuate,  that 
our  most  correct  and  sublime  ideas  of  spiritual  things  are  no  more 
the  real  images  of  spiritual  things,  than  Enigmas,  or  mysteriously 
contrived  marks,  are  the  natural  or  real  images  of  those  things  to 
•which  they  are  put  as  Signs.  A  glass,  or  speculum,  is  therefore 
used  by  the  Apostle,  in  this  place,  to  signify  the  corporeal  organs-, 
and  an  Enigma,  to  signify  the  representative  knowledge,  which  the 
corporeal  organs  are  only  capable  of  producing,  when  employed 
about  spiritual  things. 

which 


Chap.  II.]  OF    GRACE.  313 

which  he  gives  to  Charity,  the  subject  of  his  general 
argument.  But  they  seem  to  have  mistaken  the  drift 
of  his  remark  concerning  the  defects  in  human  know 
ledge,  which  was  not  made  (as  they  suppose)  for  a 
direct  inforcement  of  the  argument  in  the  eighth  verse, 
Charity  never  faileth,  fyc.  but  was  an  occasional 
answer  to  an  objection,  which  naturally  arose  from  his 
management  of  one  of  the  topics  in  the  eleventh,  When 
I  was  a  child,  &fc.  For  it  might  have  been  objected 
to  the  Apostle,  "  By  this  similitude,  you  seem  to  re 
present  the  Gospel  as  first  springing  up  in  an  infant 
state,  and  needing  time  and  culture  to  bring  it  to  per 
fection."  'c  No  (replies  the  Apostle)  ;  this  last  Law 
of  God,  like  the  first  created  Man,  came  perfect  from 
the  hands  of  its  Almighty  Framer.  But  man,  to  whom 
it  was  given,  by  reason  of  the  imperfections  of  his 
present  state,  arrived  only  by  degrees  to  the  more 
perfect  knowledge  and  practice  of  it :  and  to  this 
gradual  advance,  from  obscure  to  intuitive  science, 
does  the  similitude  refer."  This,  I  say,  seems  to 
have  been  the  source  of  the  error:  and  yet  the  Apostle's 
concluding  observation  was  sufficient  to  have  set  these 
critics  right,  and  to  have  shewn  them,  that  the  superior 
duration  of  Charity  referred  to  the  present  life  only. — 
And  NOW  abideth  FAITH,  HOPE,  and  CHARITY, 
these  three ;  but  the  greatest  of  these  is  Charity. 
Which  is  in  effect  to  say,  "  You  may  now  perhaps 
object,  that  this  quality  of  superior  duration  is  not 
peculiar  or  confined  to  Charity,  but  belongs  equally 
to  those  two  other  Christian  graces,  Faith  and  Hope, 
which  travel  through  with  the  Church  of  God,  and 
continue  to  support  and  adorn  it,  in  all  its  revolutions 
here  on  earth,  when  Prophecy,  Tongues,  and  Know 
ledge,  shall  long  have  Jailed  and  ceased,  and  vanished 
away :  So  that,  with  regard  to  DURATION,  Faith  and 

Hope 


314  THE   DOCTRINE         [Book  IL 

Hope  share  with  Charity,  in  this  advantage,  over  the 
other  transient  endowments  of  the  Spirit.''  "  I  agree 
(replies  the  Apostle)  thus  far  to  the  Objection,  that 
they  are  all  three  joint  sharers  in  this  prerogative ;  but 
still,  I  say,  THE  GREATEST  OF  THESE  is  CHARITY: 
And  in  the  beginning  of  my  argument  (says  he)  I  have 
given  the  reason,  in  the  observation,  that  Though  I 
have  all  FAITH  so  that  I  could  remove  mountains,  and 
though  I  give  my  body  to  be  burned  [in  sure  and  cer 
tain  HOPE  of  a  resurrection]  and  have  not  Charity,  it 
projiteth  me  nothing.  The  reason  is  on  account  of 
the  superior  qualities  of  Charity:  it  hath  those  which 
Faith  and  Hope  have  not,  she  seeketh  not  her  own, 
<§'c.  as  well  as  those  which  Faith  and  Hope  have,  and 
are  most  essential  to  them,  for  she  BELIEVETH  all 
things,  she  HOPETH  all  things"  It  is  thus  the  Apostle 
answers  concealed  objections ;  and  at  the  same  time 
instructs  the  unwary  reader,  with  what  caution  and 
application  he  should  come  to  the  study  of  that  pro 
found  reasoning  with  which  all  his  Epistles  abound. 

But  now,  suppose  the  superior  duration  of  Charity 
to  take  in  the  consideration  of  another  life,  and  the 
Apostle  never  could  have  said,  that  Faith  and  Hope 
had  the  prerogative  of  remaining,  or  of  having  an 
equal  abiding  with  Charity,  wJien  both  faith  and  hope 
will  be  swallowed  up  in  fruition  *. 

From 

*  The  late  Bishop  of  London,  Dr.  Sherlock,  in  his  first  volume 
of  Sermons,  contends  for  the  common  interpretation  of  this 
passage ;  and,  to  remove  the  difficulty  of  faith  and  hope's  being 
said  to  abide  with  Charity  in  a  future  state,  argues  thus — "  Charity 
"  and  universal  benevolence  is  the  very  grace  and  ornament  of 
"  Heaven.  Nor  can  faith  and  hope  ever  be  parted  from  TRUE 
"  RELIGION  ;  for  there  is  no  Being  so  great  as  nut  to  depend  on 
"  faith  in  God,  in  his  power  and  wisdom,  or  to  be  above  hoping 
"  any  thing  from  his  goodness  and  benevolence,"  p.  377.  Here 
St,  Paul  is  speaking  of  one  thing,  and  the  Bishop,  as  usual,  of 

another, 


Chap.  II.]  OF    GRACE.  315 

From  the  whole,  then,  of  this  account  of  Charity, 
it  evidently  appears,  that  THE  MIRACULOUS  POWERS 

OF  THE  CHURCH    WERE    TO    CEASE    ON  ITS  PERFECT 

ESTABLISHMENT;  as  well  those  which  relieved  cor 
poreal,  as  those  which  administered  aid  to  spiritual, 
distresses  :  and  consequently,  that  SUPERSTITION  and 
FANATICISM  equally  laboured  under  the  wound  in 
flicted  on  them  by  the  hand  of  the  Apostle,  when  he 
made  this  virtual  Declaration  of  the  total  withdrawing 
of  those  Powers. 

Here  especially,  all  the  superstitious  and  fanatical 
pretences  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  to  supernatural 
powers,  are  detected  and  exposed ;  not  only  the  gift 
of  INFALLIBILITY,  which  comprehends  all  Mysteries 
and  ail  Knowledge ;  and  the  work  of  TRANSUBSTAN- 
TIATION,  which  comprehends  all  Faith,  not  to  remove, 
but  to  make,  mountains  ;  but  likewise  all  the  LEGEN 
DARY  MIRACLES  of  their  Hierarchy  in  general,  and  of 
their  canonized  Saints  in  particular.  In  which  pre 
tences,  to  observe  it  by  the  way,  the  blunder  seems  to 
be  as  glaring  as  the  imposture  :  St.  Paul  reckons  the 
STATE  OF  CHRISTIAN  PERFECTION  not  to  be  the 
STATE  OF  MIRACLES,  but  that  of  CHARITY,  For 
we  know  in  part  (says  he)  and  we  prophesy  in  part  : 
but  when  THAT  WHICH  is  PERFECT  is  come,  then  that 
which  is  in  part  shall  be  done  away  *.  "What  is  that 

perfect 

another.  The  Apostle's  faith  and  hope  are  CHRISTIAN"  GRACES; 
that  is,  Faith  in  the  Messiah  the  Redeemer,  and  Hope  in  the 
Resurrection  of  the  deady  both  of  which  hereafter  will  be,  as  is  said 
above,  swallowed  up  in  fruition.  The  Preacher,  in  order  to  sup 
port  a  point,  puts  the  change  upon  us,  and,  for  the  Apostle's  faith 
and  hope,  gives  us  his  own :  a  faith  and  hope  at  large,  and  in  the 
air :  such  as  will  abide  indeed,  while  we  have  any  being,  but  such 
as,  on  the  same  principles  of  interpretation,  will  give  abidance  to 
Knowledge  likewise,  although  the  sacred  Writer  expressly  tellg  us, 
it  is  to  vanish  away. 

*  i  Cor.  xiii.  9,  10. 


316  THE    DOCTRINE          [Book  1 1. 

perfect  tiAngwhich  was  to  come;  and  which  the  Corin 
thians  of  tliis  time  so  much  wanted?  What  but  that 
which  he  had  so  highly  extolled,  the  State  of  CHA 
RITY  ?  So  that  as  this  advanced,  the  imperfect  state 
of  MIRACLES  was  to  recede,  and  be  done  away.  Yet 
in  the  Church  of  Rome,  the  state  of  SAINTSHIP, 
•which  is  their  state  of  perfection,  is  supported  by 
miracles  ;  whilst  St.  Paul's  state  of  perfection,  that 
of  CHARITY,  was  so  little  acknowledged  or  under 
stood,  that  one  of  their  greatest  Saints,  and  most 
abounding  in  miraculous  endowments,  was  St.  Dominic, 
the  founder  of  the  INQUISITION-.  Indeed,  if  the 
Apostle's  reasoning  would  bear  this  inference,  that 
Miracles  were  not  only  to  remain  till  Charity  had 
done  its  perfect  work,  but  till  it  had  perfectly  done  its 
work,  I  know  of  no  Church  that  has  a  better  claim  to 
the  continued  exercise  of  those  Powers  than  the 
CHURCH  OF  ROME.  But  whatsoever  need  she  may 
have,  she  fails  so  wretchedly  in  her  most  pompous 
exhibitions  of  them,  that  we  may  well  regard  ROMISH 
MIRACLES  in  the  lowest  rank  of  those  childish  things, 
which,  the  Apostle  says,  men  and  churches  should  be 
ashamed  of,  and  put  away,  when  they  come  to  years 
of  discretion. 


CHAP.    III. 

HAVING  now  established  the  FACT,  that  mira 
culous  gifts  were  to  pass  away  with  the  first  ages  of 
the  Church,  we  may  safely  and  reasonably  inquire  into 

the  FITNESS  OF  THE  THING. 

There  appears  to  have  been  two  causes  of  the  extra 
ordinary  operations  of  the  Holy  Spirit :  The  manifes 
tation 


Chap.  III.]  OF    GRACE.  317 

tation  of  his  Mission  as  it  was  predicted,  and  the 
comfort  and  instruction  of  a  suffering  Church,  us  it 
\vas  promised. 

To  the  first,  we  have  observed,  that  in  the  early 
propagation  of  our  holy  Faith,  it  was  fit  the  SANC- 
TIFIER,  as  well  as  the  REDEEMER,  should  support 
his  presence  by  Miracles.  But  the  same  considerations 
which  shew  thiiTjifness  to  be  no  more,  in  the  one 
case,  shew  it  likewise  in  the  other.  For  the  DIVINE 
ORIGINAL  of  our  Faith  being  once  established,  it  sup 
ports  itself  ever  after  on  the  same  credibility  of  human 
testimony,  which  all  other  truths  do,  that  are  founded 
on  facts. 

i.  As  to  his  extraordinary  operations  for  the  comfort 
and  instruction. of  the  Church,  we  may  observe  that, 
on  his  first  descent  upon  the  Apostles,  he  found  their 
minds  rude  and  uninformed ;  strangers  to  all  celestial 
knowledge ;  prejudiced  in  favour  of  a  carnal  Law,  and 
utterly  averse  to  the  genius  of  the  everlasting  Gcspel. 
The  minds  of  these  he  illuminated ;  and,   by  degrees, 
led  into  all  the  truths  necessary  for  the  Professors  of 
the  Faith  to  know,  or  for  the  Propagators  of  it  to  teach. 
For  a  rule  of  Faith  not  being  yet  composed,  some  ex 
traordinary  infusion  of  his  Virtue  was  still  necessary, 
both  to  regulate  the  Faith  of  him  who  received  it,  and 
to  constitute  the  Authority  of  him  who  was  to  com 
municate,   of  what  he  had  received,  to  others.     But 
when  now   the  Rule  of  faith  was  perfected   in  an 
authentic  collection  of  the  Apostolic  Writings,  part  of 
this  office  was  transferred  upon  the  Sacred  Canon  * ; 
and  his  enlightened  grace  was  not  to  be  expected  in  so 
abundant  an  eftusion   as  would  make  the  Recipients 
infallible  Guides  to  others,  but  only  in  a  measure  ade 
quate  to  the  direction  of  themselves. 

*  See  pp.  271,  272. 

'These 


3i8  THE    DOCTRINE         [Book  It 

These  reasons  for  the  change  of  economy,  in  the 
dispensations  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  are  sufficient  to  dis 
credit  the  false  confidence  of  modern  FANATIC »,  who 
pretend  to  as  high  a  degree  of  divine  communications 
as  if  no  such  Rule  of  Faith  was  in  being;  or  at  least, 
as  if  that  Rule  was  so  obscure  as  to  need  the  further 
assistance  of  the  Holy  Spirit  to  explain  his  own  mean 
ing  ;  or  so  imperfect  as  to  need  a  new  inspiration  to 
supply  its  wants. — But  these  men  read  the  History  of 
the  dispensations  to  the  first  Propagators  of  our  holy 
Faith  :  they  look  with  admiration  on  the  privileges  and 
powers  conferred  on  those  chosen  Instruments :  their 
imagination  grows  heated :  they  forget  the  difference 
between  the  present  and  the  past  economy  of  things : 
they  seem  to  feel  the  impressions  they  hear  of;  and 
they  assume  the  airs,  and  mimic  the  Authority  of 
Prophets  and  Apostles. 

i .  Again,  the  nature  and  genius  of  the  Gospel  were 
so  averse  to  all  the  religious  institutions  of  the  World, 
that  the  whole  strength  of  human  prejudices  was  set  in 
opposition  to  it.  To  overcome  the  obstinacy  and 
violence  of  these  prejudices,  nothing  less  than  the 
power  of  the  Holy  One  was  sufficient.  HE  did  the 
work  of  Man's  Conversion  ;  and  reconciled  an  unbe 
lieving  Ttorld  to  God.  At  present,  whatever  there  may 
be  remaining  of  the  bias  of  prejudice  (as  such  will 
mix  itself  even  with  our  best  conclusions),  it  draws  the 
other  way.  So  much  then  of  his  task  was  finished  ; 
and  the  Faith,  from  thenceforth,  had  a  favourable  hear 
ing.  Indeed,  were  we  to  make  our  estimate  of  the 
present  State  of  the  religious  World  from  the  Journals 
of  modern  Fanatics,  we  should  be  tempted  still  to 
think  ourselves  in  a  land  of  Pagans,  with  all  their 
prejudices  full  blown  upon  them.  For  the  account 
they  giye  us  of  their  provincial  Missions  always  runs 

on 


Chap.  III.]  OF    GRACE.  319 

on  in  such  strains  as  these — The  name  cf  Jesus  is 
preached  up  in  this  City;  the  glad  tidings  of  the 
Gospel  conveyed  to  that  Hamlet;  a  new  light  tprhigs 
up  in  a  land  of  darkness  ;  and  life  and  immortality  is 
now  first  offered  to  those  who  sit  in  the  shadow  of 
death. 

3.  A  further  reason  for  the  abatement  of  the  influ 
ences  of  the  supporting  spirit  of  Grace  is  the  jjeace 
and  security  of  the  CHURCH.  There  was  a  time  when 
the  Powers  of  this  world  were  combined  together  for 
its  destruction.  At  such  a  period,  nothing  but  superior 
^id  from  Above  could  support  humanity  in  sustaining 
so  great  a  conflict  as  that  which  the  holy  Martyrs  en 
countered  with  joy  and  rapture  ;  the  horrors  of  death 
in  torment.  But  now  the  profession  of  the  Christian 
Faith  is  attended  with  ease  and  honour ;  and  the  con 
viction,  which  the  weight  of  human  testimony,  and  the 
conclusions  of  human  reason  afford  us,  of  its  truth,  is 
abundantly  sufficient  to  support  us  in  our  religious 
perseverance.  , 

But  the  obstinate  and  continued  claims  of  FANATICS 
in  all  Ages,  to  this  primitive  abundance  of  the  Spirit, 
may  make  it  expedient  to  examine  their  pretensions 
yet  more  minutely  and  exactly.  And  to  this  inquiry, 
Scripture  itself,  which  foresaw  and  foretold  the  evil, 
directs  us  to  the  remedy,  \\here  it  exhorts  us  to  TRY 
THE  SPIRITS.  Beloved,  believe  not  every  spirit  (says 
St.  John),  but  try  the  Spirits  uhethtr  they  be  of  God: 
because  many  false  Prophets  are  gone  oat  into  the 
World*.  At  the  time  tnis  precept  was  given,  there 
was  a  more  than  ordinary  attention  requisite  to  guard 
against  the  delusions  of  false  Prophets  :  For,  the  abun 
dant  effusion  of  the  Holy  Spirit  on  the  rising  Religion 
gave  encouragement  to  Impostors  to  counterfeit,  and 

*  i  John  iv,  i, 

a  handle 


320  THE    DOCTRINE         [Book  II. 

a  handle  to  Enthusiasts  to  mimic,  all  that  was  equi 
vocal  in  its  operations. 

Hence  we  find  that,  amongst  the  various  endow 
ments  of  the  primitive  Church,  some  of  which  were  to 
correct  Gainsayers,  and  others  to  edify  Believers,  there 
was  one  of  the  mixed  kind,  of  special  use  to  support 
the  dignity,  and  to  vindicate  the  divine  original  of  all 
the  rest ;  by  detecting  Impostors,  who  crept  in  amongst 
the  truly  inspired  :  and  this,  we  have  seen,  the  Apostle 
called,  the  DISCERNING  OF  SPIRITS.  With  this 
Gift,  Peter  detected  Simon  the  Magician;  and  with 
this,  Paul  confounded  Ely  mas  the  Sorcerer. 

But  when  extraordinary  inspiration  itself  had  ceased, 
the  false  pretence  to  it,  for  some  wise  ends  of  Pro 
vidence,  to  us  unknown,  still  continued  to  infect  the 
Church  with  its  impious  Mummeries ;  and  while  that 
Virtue  (the  discerning  of  spirits),  whose  office  was  to 
detect  them,  was  withdrawn  with  the  rest  of  the  in 
spired  graces,  the  Command  to  try  the  spirits  whether 
they  were  of  God,  still  remained  in  force.  But  to  try 
without  a  faculty  of  discerning,  would  be  a  dangerous, 
or  at  best,  an  impertinent  employment. 

Now  from  this  unreasonable  task  we  are  delivered 
by  the  gracious  providence  of  the  Holy  Spirit ;  who 
provided  that  those  whom  he  had  endowed  with  the 
gift  of  discerning  of  Spirits  should  leave  behind  them 
some  Rules  whereby  the  Faithful  of  all  ages  might  be 
Qualified  to  try  the  spirits,  and  be  thereby  enabled  to 
defend  themselves  from  the  seduction  of  error  and 
imposture :  because,  says  the  advice,  many  false  Pro 
phets  are  gone  out  into  the  World. 

If  the  false  Prophet  pretend  to  a  character  foretold, 
then  we  are  bid  to  search  the  Scriptures  *,  to  see  if 
they  testify  of  such  a  Character.  Thus  the  Bereans 

*  John  v.  39.  Search  the  Scriptures,  for  they  testify  of  me. 

are 


Chap.  III.]  OF    GRACE.  321 

are  esteemed  of  more  noble  and  generous  sentiments 
than  their  Neighbours,  for  this  very  point  of  wisdom, 
the  searching  the  Scriptures  daily  to  find  whether  those 
things  were  so  *. 

But  if  the  false  Prophet  pretend  only  to  some  ex 
traordinary  measure  of  the  Spirit,  then  we  are  directed 
to  try  that  Spirit  by  applying  to  it  the  following  Cha 
racters  of  real  inspiration — THE  WISDOM  THAT  is 

FROM  ABOVE  IS  FIRST  PURE;  THEN  PEACEABLE, 
GENTLE,  AND  EASY  TO  BE  fVTREATED,  FULL  OF 
MERCY  AND  GOOD  FRUITS,  WITHOUT  PARTIALITY, 
AND  WITHOUT  HYPOCRISY  f. 

It  is  worthy  our  notice,  that,  in  this  rule  or  direction 
for  the  trial  of  spirits,  the  marks  of  real  inspiration 
are  to  be  applied  only  NEGATIVELY  :  that  is,  we  may 
safely  pronounce,  that  the  man  in  whom  they  are  not 
found,  hath  riot  the  Spirit  of  God,  or  the  wisdom  which 
is  from  above:  while  on  the  other  hand,  we  are  not 
to  conclude,  that  he  in  whom  any  or  all  of  them  are 
found,  is,  from  this  circumstance  alone,  endowed  with 
any  extraordinary  measure  of  the  Holy  Spirit ;  since 
they  may  be  no  other  than  those  ordinary  graces  which 
arise  from  the  knowledge  of,  and  obedience  to,  God's 
Will  as  contained  in  sacred  Scripture.  So  that  although 
such  a  one  may  be  truly  said  to  be  possessed  oi  the 
wisdom  which  is  from  above,  it  is  not  that  which  comes 
to  him  by  way  of  inspiration,  the  thing  he>-e  in  question. 

Thus  we  see,  the  Apostle's  Rule  carries,  in  its  very 
nature,  the  evidence  of  its  divine  original :  for  the 
assistance  wanted  in  the  trial  of  spirits,  since  these 
extraordinary  powers  were  withdrawn,  was  only  such 
a  set  of  Marks  as  was  rather  fitted  to  detect  Impostors, 
than  to  assure  the  truth  of  a  Character  not  now  to  bs 
expected. 

•  Acts  xvii.  is,  t  Jamei  iii,  17. 

VOL.  VIII.  Y  This 


322  THE    DOCTRINE         [Book  II. 

This  the  Reader  should  have  in  mind,  when  we 
bring  him  to  apply  these  marks  to  the  features  of 
modern  Fanaticism ;  especially  as  they  are  seen  in  the 
famed  Leader  of  the  METHODISTS,  Mr.  JOHN  WES 
LEY  ;  and  not  seen  neither,  as  Sancho  Pancho  saw 
his  mistress,  by  hearsay  (which  indeed  has  been  too 
much  the  custom,  in  the  representations  of  this  trans 
cendent  man),  but  as  he  appears  in  person  in  his  own 
JOURNALS  :  for  by  those  indelible  marks  alone,  there 
traced  out,  and  by  his  own  pen,  I  propose  to  TRY,  in 
him,  chiefly,  THE  SPIRITS  of  all  modern  Pretender? 
to  supernatural  Powers. 


CHAP.     IV. 

AND  that  I  may  not  be  suspected  of  combating  a 
Phantom,  it  will  be  proper  first  of  all  to  shew  that  this 
extraordinary  man  hath,  in  fact,  laid  claim  to  almost 
€very  Apostolic  gift  and  grace ;  and  in  as  full  and 
ample  a  measure  as  they  were  possessed  of  old. 

But  as  a  good  Actor  will  first  prepare  his  Scene,  he 
hath  carried  us  back,  by  the  magic  of  his  dramatic 
powers,  into  all  the  wonders  of  the  primitive  Times ; 
where  we  meet  the  Devil  unchained  and  let  loose,  to 
exert  his  last  efforts  against  the  new  Religion  :  As,  on 
the  other  hand,  to  oppose  to  his  infernal  rage,  we  see, 
with  the  same  evidence,  an  abundant  effusion  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  poured  out  upon  this  rising  Church.  And 
now,  every  thing  being  well  prepared,  Both  these 
Powers  stand  ready  to  act  their  parts,  by  the  time  our 
Apostle  thinks  fit  to  appear  upon  the  Stage. 

His  JOURNALS  are  full  of  the  Alarms  which  he  gave 
the  Devil,  and  of  the  mortifications  which  the  Devil 

gave 


Chap.  IV.]  OF    GRACE.  323 

gave  him. — "  The  Devil  (says  he)  knew  his  kingdom 
"  shook,  and  therefore  stirred  up  his  servants  to  ring 
"  bells,  and  make  all  the  noise  they  could*." — "  The 
"  Devil's  Children  fought  valiantly  for  their  Master, 
"  that  his  kingdom  should  not  be  destroyed  :  And 
"  many  stones  iell  on  my  right  hand  and  on  my  leftf." 
"  Some  or  other  of  the  Children  of  Belial  had  laboured 
"to  disturb  us  several  nights  before J."  ^ay,  so 
accustomed  was  he  to  these  conflicts  with  the  Evil 
One,  that  U  was  even  matter  of  surprise  to  him,  to  find 
the  Enemy,  once  upon  a  time,  reserved  and  still;  till 
he  reflected,  that  it  was  because  his  Goods  were  in 
peace.  fl  I  preached — as  yet  I  have  found  only  one 
"  person  amongst  them,  who  knew  the  love  of  God, 
<J  before  my  Brother  came.  No  wonder  the  Devil 
"  was  so  still :  for  his  Goods  were  in  peace  §.''  Another 
instance  which  he  gives  us,  of  this  p.vi.teable  convention 
between  his  Congregation  and  the  Devil,  is  in  one  of 
his  northern  excursions.  <c  Wed.  -29.  I  preached  at 
"  Durham  to  a  QUIET,  STUPID  Congregation  ||."  But 
this  never  lasted  long  wherever  he  came  ;  for  he  had 
always  the  skill  of  curing  the  spiritual  lethargy  by  a 
frenzy. 

When  the  Devil  had  set  the  mob  on  work,  he  then, 
like  other  Politicians,  retired  to  better  company ;  such 
as  the  two  Mr.  Wesley s  and  the  Saints.  But,  as  this 
sad  and  solemn  meeting  was  not  to  his  taste,  he  tried 
to  buffet  them  into  a  better  humour.  "  I  was  a 
"  little  surprised  at  some  who  were  bujjetted  of 
"  Satan  in  an  unusual  manner  by  such  a  spirit  of 
"  laughter — I  knew  the  same  thing  ten  or  eleven 

•  Journal  from  i,'Nov.  1739,  to  Sept.  3,  1741,  p.  37. 
t  Ibid.  p.  82.  |  Ibid.  p.  31. 

$  Journ  from  Nov.  25,   1746,  to  July  20,   1750,  p.  29. 
||  Journ.  from  July  20,  1750,  to  Oct.  28,  1754,   p.  16. 

y  2  "  years 


324  THE    DOCTRINE         [BookIL 

"  years-  ago.  Part  of  Sunday  my  Brother  and  I  then 
"  used  to  spend  in  walking  in  the  meadows  and 
"  singing  Psalms.  But  one  day,  just  as  we  were  be- 
c<  ginning  to  sing,  he  burst  out  into  a  loud  laughter. 

'  I  began  to  be  very  angry,  and  presently  after  to 
"  laugh  as  loud  as  he. — We  were  ready  to  tear  our- 
"  selves  in  pieces,  but  were  forced  to  go  home  with- 
"  out  singing  another  line  *."  From  the  Head,  these 
buffettings  (which,  not  to  overload  the  Devil,  I  will, 
for  once,  venture  to  call  hysterical)  descended,  and 
were  plentifully  bestowed,  upon  the  Members.  And, 

6  one  evening  (says  he)  such  a  spirit  of  laughter  was 
"  amongst  us,  that  many  were  much  offended.  But 
"  the  attention  of  all  was  soon  fixed  upon  poor 

*'  L a  S ;  one  so  violently  and  variously  torn 

"  of  the  EVIL  ONE  did  I  never  see  before.  Some- 
<c  times  she  laughedy  then  broke  out  into  cursing  and 
tf  blaspheming  f,"  &c.  On  this  occasion,  he  relates 
a  fact,  which,  though  He  seems  not  to  have  turned 
to  a  proper  use,  the  sober  and  attentive  Reader  may. 
— "  Our  outward  trials  indeed  were  now  removed, 
"  and  peace  was  in  all  our  borders.  But  so  much 
"  the  more  did  inward  trials  abound,  and  if  one 
"  member  suffered^  all  the  members  suffered  with  it. 
"  So  strange  a  SYMPATHY  did  I  never  observe  before : 
"  whatever  considerable  temptation  fell  on  any  one, 
"  unaccountably  spreading  itself  to  the  rest.  So  that 
"  exceeding  few  were  able  to  escape  it  J."  In  these 
various  struggles,  the  Devil  was  at  length  tired  out ; 
and  Mr.  Wesley  forces  him  into  close  quarters ;  to 
betake  himself  to  the  bodies  of  friend  or  foe  indifferently, 
just  as  he  could  find  opportunity  or  entertainment. 
And  now  comes  on  the  shining  part  of  our  Apostle's 

*  Journ.  from  Nov.  i,  1739,  to  Sept.  3,  1741,   p.  37. 
f  Ibid.  p.  38.  }  Ibid*  p.  37. 

exploits. 


Chap.  IV.]  OF    GRACE.  325 

exploits,  the  driving  him  out,  in  the  face  of  the  whole 
Congregation,  by  EXORCISMS  and  spiritual  Eject 
ments. 

But  if  Evil  thus  abounded,  Grace  did  much  more 
abound  in  this  memorable  JEra,  \vhen  Mr.  John 
Wesley  first  went  out  upon  his  Mission.  The  Spirit 
overcame  all  resistance,  broke  down  all  the  strong 
holds  of  Sin,  and,  what  Mr.  Wesley  was  much  more 

set  against,  of  INSENSIBILITY, "  So  many  living 

"  Witnesses  (says  he)  hath  God  given,  that  his  hand 
"  is  STILL  stretched  out  to  heal,  and  that  signs  and 
"  wonders  are  even  NOW  wrought  by  his  holy  Child, 
"  Jesus  *."  For,  out  of  the  mouths  of  babes  and  suck 
lings,  it  once  again,  as  of  old,  perfected  praise ;  the 
young  men  saw  visions,  and  the  old  men  dreamed 
dreams. 

"  Amongst  the  poor  Colliers  at  Placey,  John  Lane, 
"  then  nine  or  ten  years  oldy  was  one  of  the  first  who 
"  found  peace  with  God.  From  that  hour  he  continued 
"  to  walk  day  and  night  in  the  light  of  his  countenance. 
"  I  saw  him  last  year  longing  to  be  with  Christ  f,"  £c» 
— "  I  enquired  more  particularly  of  Mrs.  N.  con- 
"  cerning  her  little  Son.  She  said,  He  appeared  to 
"  have  a  continual  fear  of  God,  and  an  awful  sense 
"  of  his  presence  ;  that  he  frequently  went  to  prayers 
"  by  himself:  that  he  had  an  exceeding  great  tender- 
"  ness  of  Conscience,  being  sensible  of  the  least  sin. — • 
"  A  few  days  since  he  broke  out  into  prayers  aloud> 
"  and  then  said,  Mamma,  I  shall  go  to  Heaven  soon — 
"  and  you  will  go  there  too,  and  my  Papa ;  but  you 
"  will  not  go  so  soon."  On  which  Mr.  Wesley  very' 
judiciously  observes,  "  When  the  Holy  Ghost  teaches, 
"  is  there  any  delay  in  learning  ?  This  Child  was  then 

*  Journ.  from  Aug.  12,  1738,  to  Nov.  i,  1739. 

|  Journ.  from  July  so,  1750,  to  Oct.  28,  1754,  p.  18. 

Y  3  "just 


326  THE   DOCTRINE        [Book  I L 

"just  three  years  old.  A  year  or  two  after  he  died  in 
"  peace  *." 

"  I  heard  (says  he)   a  surprising  account  of 

"  a  young  woman  of  Manchester,  which  I  received 
"  from  her  own  mouth.  She  said,  I  was  sitting  in  the 
ft  house  while  one  read  the  passion  hymn.  I  had 
"  always  gone  to  Church,  and  had  never  heard  any  of 
ic  the  methodist  preachers.  On  a  sudden  I  saw  our 
"  Saviour  on  the  Cross,  as  plain  as  if  it  had  been  with 
"  my  bodily  eyes. — Then  I  saw  as  it  were  Heaven 
"  open,  and  God  sitting  upon  his  Throne.  And  I  saw 
"  a  large  book,  in  which  all  my  sins  were  written  f,"  &c. 

But  this  was  nothing  to  the  vision  of  S T , 

(a  girl  of  ten  years  and  thrze  quarters  old),  which 
takes  up  between  three  and  four  pages  in  the  telling ; 
so  that  partly  for  the  length,  but  principally  because  I 
suspect  Mr.  J.  Wesley  intended  it  only  for  the  solace 
of  his  babes  and  sucklings,  for  whose  use  this  discourse 
is  not  intended,  I  shall  only  point  to  the  Journal  where 
the  wonderful  adventure  is  related  J.  For  the  same 
reason,  I  shall  pass  over  many  of  the  Dreams  and 
Visions. 

All  these  wonders  were  not  worked  for  nothing. 
The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  was  gone  out,  and  it  did  not 
stop  till  it  had  manifested  itself,  in  the  last  efforts  of 
its  power,  THE  NEW  BIRTH  :  But  it  went  not  out,  as 
of  old,  in  the  still,  small  voice,  but  in  storms  and 
tempests,  in  cries  and  ecstacies,  in  tumults  and  con 
fusion  ;  and  when  Nature  was  exhausted,  then  Grace 
had  done  its  work.  But  he  tells  us,  his  correspon 
dents  hearing  of  this  strange  affair,  enquired  of  him, 
how  can  these  things  be  ?  They  cautioned  him  not  to 

*  Journ.  from  Oct.  27,  1734,  to  Nov.  17,  1746,  p.  133. 

•f  Journ.  from  Nov.  25,  1746,  to  July  QO,  1750,  p.  94. 

J  Journ.  from  Oct,  27,  1743,  to  )jov.  17,  1746,  p.  141,  %  seq. 

regard 


Chap.  IV.]  OFGRACE.  327 

regard  visions  or  dreams,  or  to  fancy  'people,  had  remis 
sion  of  sins  because  of  their  cries  or  tears,  &c.  To 
this,  he  tells  us,  he  answered;  "  You  deny  that  God 
"  does  now  work  these  effects  :  at  least  that  he  works 
"  them  in  this  manner.  I  affirm  both.  I  have  seen 
"  very  many  persons  changed  in  a  moment  from  the 
"  spirit  of  fear,  horror,  despair,  to  the  spirit  of  love, 
"  joy,  and  peace. — What  I  have  to  say  touching  visions 
"  or  dreams  is  this:  I  know  several  persons  in  whom 
"  this  great  change  was  wrought  in  a  dream,  or  during 
"  a  strong  representation  to  the  eye  of  their  mind,  of 
"  Christ  either  on  the  Cross  or  in  glory  *." 

But  here  unhappily,  as  is  usual  in  these  matters,  the 
symptoms  of  Grace  and  of  Perdition  were  so  inter 
woven  and  confounded  with  one  another,  that  our 
Apostle  himself  is  sometimes  at  a  loss  to  distinguish 
the  hand  ;  and  to  determine,  with  certainty,  who  had 
the  largest  share  in  the  WORK,  GOD  or  the  DEVIL; 
insomuch  that  a  Manichean  might  have  greatly  availed 
himself  of  this  untoward  circumstance.  Mr.  J.  Wesley 
had  been  grieved,  and  the  Spirit  of  God  had  been 
grieved  likewise,  at  the  scandal  given  by  some  of  his 
own  flock,  who  "  blasphemed  the  work,  and  imputed 
"  it  either  to  Nature  or  the  force  of  Imagination  and 
"  Animal-spirits,  or  even  to  the  delusion  of  the 
"  Devil  f." — "  Many  (says  he)  were  deeply  convinced; 
"  but  none  were  delivered  from  that  painful  conviction. 
"  The  Children  came  to  the  BIRTH,  but  there  was  not 
"  strength  to  BRING  FORTH.  I  fear  we  have  grieved 
"  the  Spirit  of  the  jealous  God,  by  questioning  his 
"  work  J."  Yet  these  pangs  of  the  NEW  BIRTH  be 
coming,  on  certain  occasions,  more  violent,  and  more 
general  than  ordinary,  and  even  found  to  be  taking 

*  Journ.  from  Aug.  12,  1738,  to  Nov.  i,  1739,  p.  48,  49. 
f  Ibid.  p.  59.  J  Ibid.  p.  68. 

y  4  and 


328  THE   DOCTRINE        [Cook  II. 

and  infectious, —  the  Apostle  himself  was  staggered, 
and  seemed  ready  to  recant.  "  These  symptoms  I  can 
"  no  more  impute  to  any  natural  cause,  than  to  the 
"  Spirit  of  God.  I  make  no  doubt  it  was  SATAN 
"  tearing  them  as  they  were  coming  to  Christ.  And 
"  hence  proceeded  those  grievous  cries,  whereby  he 
"  might  design  both  to  discredit  the  work  of  God, 
"  and  to  affright  fearful  people  from  hearing  that  word 
c<  whereby  their  Souls  might  be  saved  *."  But  since 
these  Symptoms  were  universal  and  inseparable  from 
the  new  birth,  I  rather  think,  and  1  will  venture  to 
say,  as  it  is  only  raising  the  Catachresis  one  step 
higher,  that  the  Devil  was  here  only  in  the  office  of 
Man-Midwife  to  the  new  birth.  And  Mr.  Wesley 
himself,  on  second  thoughts,  seems  not  much  averse  to 
this  conceit,  as  appears  from  the  following  relation  :— 
"  I  visited  (says  he)  a  poor  old  woman  a  mile  or  two 
"  from  the  Town.  Her  trials  had  been  uncommon ; 
"  inexpressible  agonies  of  mind  joined  with  all  sorts  of 
"  bodily  pain,  not  (it  seemed)  from  any  natural  cause, 
"  but  the  direct  operation  of  Satan :  Her  joys  were 
"  now  as  uncommon ;  she  had  little  time  to  sleep, 
"  having  for  several  months  last  past  seen,  as  it  were, 
"  the  unclouded  face  of  God,  and  praised  him  day  and 
"  night  f." 


CHAP.    V. 

SUCH  was  the  EVANGELIC  STATE  of  things  when 
Mr.  J.  Wesley  first  entered  on  this  Ministry :  who, 
seeing  himself  surrounded  with  subjects  so  harmoni 
ously  disposed  to  obey  the  touch  of  a  master,  thus 

*  Journ.  from  Sept.  3,  1741,  to  Oct.  27,  1743. 

t  Journ.  from  July  20,  1749,  to  Oct.  30, 1751,  p.  60. 

triumphantly 


Chap.  V.]  OF    GRACE.  3-29 

triumphantly  exults :— "  Full  as  I  was,  I  knew  not 
"  where  to  begin,  till  my  Testament  opened  on  these 
"  words,  /  came  not  to  call  the  Righteous,  but  Sin- 
t€  ners,  to  repentance :  In  applying  which,  my  soul 
"  was  so  enlarged,  that  methought  I  could  have  cried 
"  out  (in  another  sense  than  poor,  vain  Archimedes) 
"Give  me  where  to  stand,  and  I  will  SHAKE  THE 
"  EARTH  *."  A  bravado  that  would  have  suited  Igna 
tius  Loiola  in  his  first  slippery  ecstacies  in  the  mire, 
as  the  World  has  sufficiently  experienced.  How  it 
became  our  adventurer,  on  his  first  setting  out,  the 
World  may  be  brought  to  know  in  good  time. 

Here  then  was  a  Scene  well  prepared  for  a  good 
Actor,  and  excellently  fitted  up  for  the  part  he  was 
disposed  to  play,  which,  as  we  have  said,  was  that  of 
an  APOSTLE.  And,  to  do  him  justice,  he  hath  exhi 
bited  it  with  such  splendor,  that,  of  all  the  Apostolic 
gifts  and  graces,  there  is  but  one  with  which  we  find 
him  not  adorned,  viz.  the  gift  of  tongues  ;  and  us  to 
this,  the  learned  Mr.  J.  Wesley  may  reply  with  the 
learned  Paul,  he  already  spoke  with  tongues  more,  than 
they  all  For  the  rest,  whether  they  were  prophecy- 
supernatural  aids  in  his  ministry — healing  the  sick — 
casting  out  Devils — or  inflicting  divine  vengeance  on 
his  opposers,  he  had  them  all,  as  we  understand  by 
\A&  journals,  in  abundant  measure. 

We  will  begin  (as  is  fitting)  where  he  himself  began, 
with  declaring  his  MISSION.  "  A  multitude  of  people 
"  got  together  in  the  house,  yard,  and  street,  far  more 
"  than  my  voice  could  reach.  1  cried  aloud  to  as 
"  many  of  them  as  could  hear,  All  things  are  ready : 
"  come  ye  to  the  marriage.  I  then  DELIVERED  MY 
"  MESSAGE.  So  before  ten  we  took  boat  f,"  &c. 

*  Journ.  from  Aug.  12,  1738,  to  Nov.  i,  1739. 

f  Journ.  from  Nov.  45,  1746,  to  July  20,  1750,  p.  29. 

Yet, 


330  THE   DOCTRINE        [Book  II. 

Yet,  like  Moses,  he  was  at  first  a  little  mutinous. — 
"  From  the  directions  I  received  from  God  this  day, 
"  touching  an  affair  of  the  greatest  importance,  I 
"  could  not  but  observe  the  mistake  of  those  who 
cc  assert,  f  God  will  not  answer  your  prayer,  unless 
"  your  heart  be  wholly  resigned  to  his  will.'  My  heart 
"  was  not  entirely  resigned  to  his  will.  Yet  I  know 
"  and  am  assured,  he  heard  my  voice,  and  sent  forth 
"  his  light  and  his  truth  *." 

PROPHECY  or  Speaking  hy  the  Spirit,  the  first  and 
most  essential  quality  of  a  divine  Messenger,  he  had  at 
will.  "  We  had  (says  he)  a  watch  night  at  the  Chapel : 
cc  being  weak  in  body,  I  was  afraid  I  could  not  go 
"  through  it.  But  the  longer  I  spoke,  the  more 
"  strength  I  had.  Insomuch  that  at  twelve  o'clock  all 
"  my  weariness  and  weakness  was  gone ;  and  I  was 
"  as  one  refreshed  with  winef." — "  Several  of  the 
"  Gentry  desired  to  stay  at  the  meeting  of  the  Society, 
"  to  whom  I  explained  the  nature  of  inward  Religion, 
<c  wordsflowing  upon  me  faster  than  I  could  speak  £." — 
"  I  intended  to  have  given  an  exhortation  to  the 
"  Society.  But  as  soon  as  we  met,  the  Spirit  of  Sup- 
"  plication  fell  upon  us,  so  that  I  could  hardly  do  any 
"  thing  but  pray  and  give  thanks,  till  it  was  time  for 
"  us  to  part  §  "  But  the  Spirit  soon  came  down  in  a 
torrent  that  took  away  all  utterance. — "  In  the  evening 
"  the  word  of  God  was  indeed  quick  and  powerful. 
"  Afterwards,  I  desired  the  men  as  well  as  women  to 
"  meet.  But  I  could  not  speak  to  them.  The  Spirit 

*  Journ.    from  his  embarking  for  Georgia,  to  his  return  to 
London,  p.  37. 

f  Journ.  from  Nov.  25,  1746,  to  July  20,  1750,  p.  32. 

I  Journ  from  Sept.  3,  1741,  to  Oct.  27,  1743,  p.  87. 

§  Journ.  from  Nov,  *5?  1746,  to  July  20,  1750,  p.  84,  85. 

"of 


Chap.  V.]  OF    GRACE.  331 

"  ofpraijer  was  so  poured  upon  us  all,  that  we  could 
"  only  speak  to  God  *." 

The  exterior  assistances  in  his  Ministry  were  no  less 
signal  than  the  interior.—*  Many  were  seated  on  a 
"  large  wall    adjoining,    wliich,   being  built  of  loose 
"  stones,  in  the  tairid  s  u;  the  Sermon  all  fell  down  at 
"  once.     I  never  MW,  heard,  nor  read,  of  such  a  thing 
*'  before.    The  whole  wall  and  the  persons  sitting  upon 
"  it  sunk  down  together,  none  of  them  screaming  out, 
"  and  very  few  altering  their  posture.     And  not  one 
"  was  hurt  at  all ;  but  they  appeared  sitting  at  the 
"  bottom,  just  as  they  sat  at  the  top.     Nor  was  there 
"  any  interruption  either  of  my  speaking,   or  of  the 
"  attention  of  the  hearers  |."    The  next  rises  in  due 
gradation.     An  unruly  mob  became  of  a  sudden  as 
harmless  as  the  stones.     Though,  had  they  met,   and 
opposed  the  ministry,   together,  one  does  not  know 
what  might   have  happened.—"  The   mob   had  just 
"  broke  open  the  door,  when  we  came  into  the  lower 
"  room ;  and  exactly  while  they  burst  in  at  one  door, 
"  we  walked  out  at  the  other.     Nor  did  one  man  take 
"  any  notice  of  us,  though  we  were  within  five  yards 
"  of  each  other  J."    Without  doubt  they  were  struck 
blind-,  though,  in  imitation  of  the  modest  silence  of  the 
Evangelist,  who  relates  the  like  adventure  of  the  blessed 
Jesus,  he  forbears  the  express  mention  of  this  stupen 
dous  miracle. — The  next  and  more  powerful  operation 
was  on  his  female  friends ;  and  these,  he  as  fairly  struck 
dumb—  "The  whole  multitude  were  silent,  while  I 
"  was  speaking.    Not  a  whisper  was  heard.     But  the 
"  moment  I  had  done,  the  Chain  fell  off  their  tongues. 
"  I  was  really  surprised.     Surely  never  was  such  a 

*  Journ.  from  Sept.  3,  1741,  to  Oct.  27,  1743,  !>•  104- 
t  Journ.  from  Nov.  25,  1746,  to  July  20,  1750,  p.  23. 
$  Ibid.  p.  57. 

4  cackling 


332  THE    DOCTRINE        [Book  II. 

' '  cackling  made  on  the  banks  of  Cayster,  or  the  Com- 
"  mon  of  Sedgrnoor  *."  And  to  chain  up  the  tongues 
of  five  hundred  cackling  gossips,  he  held,  and  with 
great  reason,  an  exploit  worth  recording.  Indeed  he 
appears  to  have  taken  the  most  effectual  method  with 
them,  that  is,  to  out-clamour  them  :  For  thus  he  mea 
sures  out  his  own  Stentoronic  voice. —  "  Observing  that 
"  several  sat  on  the  side  of  the  opposite  hill,  I  after- 
(C  wards  desired  one  to  measure  the  ground;  and  we 
"  found  it  was  sevenscore  yards  from  the  place  where 
"  I  had  stood.  Yet  the  people  there  heard  perfectly 
"  well.  I  did  not  think  any  human  voice  could  have 
"  reached  so  far  f."  And  as,  on  proper  occasions, 
every  courteous  Knight-Errant  has  condescended  to 
let  his  horse  into  a  share  of  the  adventure,  so  our 
Spiritual  Martialist,  unwilling  to  break  so  good  a 
custom,  has  divided  (as  St.  Martin  did  his  cloak  with 
the  Beggar)  the  next  exploit  of  price  with  his  Beast. 
"  My  horse  was  exceeding  lame  —  we  could  not  dis- 
"  cern  what  it  was  that  was  amiss,  and  yet  he  could 
"  scarce  set  his  foot  on  the  ground. — My  head  ached 
<c  more  than  it  had  done  for  some  months  (what  I 
cc  here  aver  is  the  naked  fact;  let  every  man  account 
"for  it  as  he  sees  good).  I  then  thought,  c  Cannot 
"  God  heal  either  man  or  beast,  by  any  means,  or 
"  without  any  /'  Immediately  my  weariness  and  head- 
"  ach  ceased,  and  my  Horse's  lameness  in  the  same 
"  instant.  Nor  did  he  halt  any  more  either  that  day 
"  or  the  next.  A  very  odd  accident  this  also  £." 

Come  we  next  to  his  GIFT  OF  HEALING.  One 
of  his  miracles  of  this  kind,  had,  it  seems,  been  brought 
in  question ;  on  which  occasion,  he  thus  explains 

*  Journ.  from  Nov.  25,  1746,  to  July  20,  1750,  p.  96. 
t  Journ.  from  July  so,  1753,  to  Oct.  28,  1754,  p.  10. 
J  Journ.  from  Oct.  27,  1743,  to  Nov.  17,  1746. 

himself: 


Chap.  V.]  OF    GRACE.  333 

himself — cc  Miracle  or  no  Miracle,  the  fact  is  plain. 
"  W.  Kirkman  is,  I  apprehend,  still  alive  and  able  to 
"  certify  for  himself,  that  he  had  that  cough  threescore 
"  years,  and  since  that  time  [viz.  the  miraculous  aid 
"  afforded  him]  it  had  not  returned  *."  In  the  pam 
phlet  where  this  extraordinary  case  was  first  recorded, 
Mr.  Wesley  asks,  Whether  any  one  could  suppose, 
that  if  he  had  performed  it  by  his  skill  in  physic,  he 
should  not  have  been  ready  to  do  honour  to  himself, 
rather  than  transfer  that  honour  to  another  ?  If  Mr. 
Wesley  be  serious  in  this  question,  he  is  the  dupe  of 
his  spiritual  ambition.  The  Character  of  a  great 
Saint  is  infinitely  more  flattering  to  the  Head  of  a  Sect 
than  that  of  a  great  Physician. —  But  to  proceed — 
"  I  administered  ihe  Sacrament  to  R.  A.  Some  years 
"  ago  he  found  peace  with  God,  and  was  freed  at  once 
"  without  any  human  means  from  a  distemper  naturally 
"  incurable  f ."  But  acute  as  well  as  chronical  dis 
orders  fly  his  sacred  presence. — "  I  found  (says  he) 
"  Mr.  Luneli  in  so  violent  a  fever,  that  there  was 
"  little  hope  of  his  life.  He  revived  the  moment  he 
"  saw  me,  and  fell  into  a  breathing  sweat.  He  began 
(<  to  recover  from  that  time.  Perhaps  for  this  also 
"  was  I  sent  J."  "  In  the  evening  I  called  upon  Anne 
"  Calcut.  She  had  been  speechless  for  some  time. 
"  But  almost  as  soon  as  we  began  to  pray,  God  re- 
"  stored  her  speech.  She  then  witnessed  a  good 
"  confession  indeed.  I  expected  to  see  her  no  more. 

<c  But,    FROM    THAT    HOUR,    THE    FEVER    LEFT  HER, 

"  and  in  a  few  days  she  arose  and  walked,  glorify- 
"  ing  God  §."— "  I  visited  several  of  the  Sick,  Most 

*  Journ.  from  Nov.  25,  1746,  to  July  10,  1750,  p.  123. 
t  Journ.  from  July  20,  1749,  to  Oct.  30,  1751,  p.  34. 
|  Journ.  from  Sept.  3,  1741,  to  Get,  27,  1743,  P«  34 
$  Ib.  id, 

"Of 


334  THE    DOCTRINE         [Book  II. 

"  of  them  were  ill  of  the  spotted  Fever ;  which,  they 
"  informed  me,  had  been  extremely  mortal,  few  per- 
"  sons  recovering  from  it.  But  God  hud  said,  II i- 
"  THERTO  SHALT  THOU  COME.  I  believe  there  was 
"  NOT  ONE  with  whom  we  were,  but  he  recovered*." — •• 
"  They  told  me  the  Physician  said,  he  did  not  expect 
"  Mr.  Meyrick  would  live  till  the  morning.  I  went  to 
<e  him,  but  his  pulse  was  gone.  He  had  been  speech- 
"  less  and  senseless  for  some  time.  A  few  of  us 
"  immediately  joined  in  prayer  (I  relate  the  naked 
"  fact}.  Before  we  had  done,  his  sense  and  his  speech 
"  returned.  Now  he  that  will  account  lor  this  by 
"  natural  causes,  has  my  free*  leave.  I  chuse  to  say, 
"  THIS  is  THE  POWER  OF  GOD  f."  However,  gra 
cious  as  this  free  leave  is,  I  would  not,  Reader !  be 
the  man  to  advise  you  to  trust  to  it.  Saints  are  vin 
dictive  :  He  has  fairly  told  you  what  he  chuses  to  call 
it.  And  after  this,  who  can  tell  how  far  he  may  think 
the  honour  of  God  concerned  in  making  so  free  with 
his  Messenger  as  to  take  him  at  his  word,  having 
before  solemnly  assured  you,  of  <c  many  living  wit- 
"  nesses  which  God  hath  given,  that  His  hand  is  STILL 
"  stretched  out  to  heal ;  and  that  signs  and  wonders 
"  are  even  NOW,  wrought  by  his  holy  Child  JESUS  J? " 
From  the  cure  of  natural  diseases,  proceed  we  to 
the  supernatural,  or,  saving  your  presence,  to  the 
CASTING  OUT  OF  DEVILS.  Having  related,  by  way 
of  prelude,  the  extravagancies  of  a  furious  female  De 
moniac  of  nineteen  or  twenty  years  of  age,  \\hom  he 
set  to  rights  without  much  ceremony;  he  proceeds 
immediately  to  another  of  the  same  Sex ;  but  her  he 
exorcises  in  form,  and  according  to  the  true  Roman 

*  Journ.  from  Nov.  i,  1739,  to  Sept.  3,  1741,  p.  61. 
f  Journ.  from  Sept.  3,  1741,  to  Oct.  27,  1743,  p.  81. 
|  Journ.  from  Aug.  12.  1738,  to  Nov.  i>  1739?  P-  4°- 

fashion. 


Chap.  V.]  OF    GRACE.  335 

fashion. — "  I  was  sent  for  to  one  in  Bristol — She  lay 
"  on   the  ground   furiously  gnashing   her   teeth,  and 
"  after  a  while   roared   aloud.     It  was    not  easy  for 
"  three  or  four  persons  to  hold  her,  especially  when 
"  the  name  of  Jesus  was  named.     We  prayed ;  the 
f(  violence  of  her  symptoms  ceased,  though,  without 
"  a  complete  deliverance.     In  the  evening,  being  sent 
"  for  to  her  again,  I  was  unwilling,  indeed  afraid  to 
t£  go ;  thinking  it  would  not  avail,  unless  some,  who 
<c  were  strong  in  faith,  were  to  wrestle  with  God  for 
"  her.     1  opened   my  Testament  on  these  words — / 
"  was  afraid,  and  went  and  hid  my  talent  in  the  earth. 
"  I  stood  reproved,  and  went  immediately.  She  began 
"  screaming  before  I  came  into  the  room,  then  broke 
"  out  into  a  horrid  laughter  mixt  with  blasphemy, 
"  grievous   to  hear.     One  who,  from  many  circum- 
<c  stances,  apprehended  a  preternatural  Agent  to  be 
"  concerned  in  this,  asking,  How  didst  thou  dare  to 
"  enter  into  a  Christian  ?  was  answered,  She  is  no 
"  Christian.    She  is  mine.    Q.  Dost  thou  not  tremble 
"  at  the  name  of  Jesus  ?  No  words  followed,  but  she 
"  shrunk  back,    and  trembled  exceedingly.     Q.  Art 
"  thou   not  encreasing   thy  own   damnation  ?  It  was 
"  faintly  answered.  Ay,  ay :  which  was  followed   by 
"  fresh  cursing  and  blaspheming.  My  Brother  coming. 
"  in,   she  cried  out,  Preacher!   Field- Preacher,  I 
"  do  not  love  field-preaching.     This  was  repeated  two 
<c  hours  together,  with  spittings  and  all   the  expres- 
"  sions  of  strong  aversion.     And   now  it  was   that 
"  God  shewed  he  heareth  the  Prayer— She  was  filled 
"  with  peace,  and  knew  that  the  Son  of  Wickedness 
"  was  departed  from  her" — This  is  very  well :  The 
next  is  not  inferior — "  I  was  sent  for  to  Kingswood 
1  ag?in"  [namely  to  the  young  woman  with  whom  he 
preludes  these  achievements.]  «  A  violent  rain  began 

"  just 


336  THE   DOCTRINE        [Book  1 1. 

"  just  as  I  set  Out,  so  that  I  was  thoroughly  wet  in  a 
"  few  minutes.  Just  at  that  time  the  woman  (then 
"  three  miles  off)  cried  out,  Yonder  comes  Wesley 
"  galloping  as  fast  as  he  can.  When  I  was  come,  I 
"  was  quite  cold  and  dead,  and  fitter  for  sleep  than- 
"  prayer.  She  burst  out  into  a  horrid  laughter,  and 
a  said,  No  power,  no  power ;  no  faith,  no  faith:  She 
"  is  mine.  Her  Soul  is  mine,  I  have  her,  and  will 
te  not  let  go.  We  begged  of  God  to  increase  our 
"  faith. — One,  who  was  clearly  convinced  this  was  no- 
"  natural  disorder,  said,  /  think  Satan  is  let  loose. 
"  I  FEAR  HE  WILL  NOT  STOP  HERE;  and  added,  I 
"  command  thee  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  to 
"  tell  if  thou  hast  commission  to  torment  any  other 
"  Soul.  It  was  immediately  answered,  /  have; 

"  L y   C r  and  S h  J s,  two  who 

"  lived  at  some  distance,  and  were  then  in  perfect 
"  health  *."  In  which,  I  dare  say,  they  did  not  long 
continue,  after  the  Exorcist  had  thus  consigned  them 
over  to  Satan,  now  let  loose  to  do  Mr.  Wesley  honour. 
But  what  is  most  material  (if  we  may  believe  Him  or 
his  spiritual  Coadjutor)  is,  that  Mr.  Wesley's  new 
birth  only  makes  the  Christian ;  and  that  the  Devil 
hates, field-preaching.  To  evince  these  great  Truths, 
seems  to  have  been  the  end  both  of  the  Possessions 
and  of  the  Exorcisms.  POPERY  and  PURITANISM, 
it  is  to  be  observed,  have,  at  times,  for  the  like 
righteous  ends,  received  equal  credit  from  the  same 
reverend  Testimonies,  the  Devil  and  the  Priest: — 
as  the  curious  may  read  with  pleasure  in  the  Detec 
tion  of  two  famous  impostures  carried  on  in  each  of 
those  Quarters,  and  recorded  by  the  elegant  pen  of 

*  Journ.  from  Aug.  12,  1738,  to  Nov.  i,  1739,  pp.  92,  93, 
&  seq. 

Dr. 


Chap.  V.]  OF    GRACE.  337 

Dr.  Samuel  HARSX  KT  *,  bishop  of  Norwich,  and  after 
wards  Archbishop  of  York.  By  which  we  may  gather, 
that  the  Inhabitants  below  are  divided  into  Sects  as 
well  as  those  above ;  and  that  there  are  Popish,  Puri 
tan,  and  Methodist,  DEVILS;  who  have  all,  in  their 
turns,  been  forced  to  answer  to  Interrogatories;  and 
to  depose  in  honour  of  the  Sect  they  persecuted,  at 
the  expence  of  that  to  which  they  belonged. 

Such  were  the  blessings  which  Mr.  Wesley  bestowed 
upon  his  Friends  :  for  his  Enemies  he  had  other  things 
in  store ;  and  those  no  small  ones,  the  exterminating 
JUDGMENTS  OF  HEAVEN.  Yet  still  the  treatment 
was  strictly  Apostolical.  "  I  preached  (says  he)  at 
"  Darlaston, .  late  a  den  of  Lions :  But  most  of  the 
"  fiercest  of  them  God  had  called  away  by  A  TRAIN 
"  OF  AMAZING  STROKES;  and  those  that  remain 
"  are  now  as  lambs  f."  The  corrections,  we  see,  as 
those  of  Heaven  should,  had  their  proper  effect. — 

:  I  preached  at  R ,  once  a  place  of  furious  riot 

1  and  persecution;  but  quiet  and  calm,  since  the 
"  bitter  Rector  is  gone  to  give  AN  ACCOUNT  OF 
"  HIMSELF  TO  GOD  J." — "  Hence  we  rode  toT-  -, 
'  where  the  Minister  was  slowly  recovering  from  a 
"  violent  fit  of  the  Palsy,  with  which  he  was  struck 
"  immediately  after  he  had  been  preaching  a  virulent 
"  Sermon  against  the  Methodists  §." — ;'  The  Rev. 

'  Mr.  preached  and  inveighed  very  much 

"  against  the  novel  sect,  the   upstart  Methodists — 
"  Shortly  after,  he  was  to  preach  [the  same  sermon 

*  A  declaration  of.  egregious  Popish  impostures,  $c.  Lend. 
1603.  Q.~- Declaration  of  Puritan  impost  urek^,  in  the  case  of 
Darrelj  &c.  Lond.  1599.  Q* 

t  Journ.  from  July  20,   1740,  to  Oct.  30,   1751,  p.  81. 

I  Journ,  from  July  20,   1750,  to  Oct.  28,   1754,  p.  11. 

§  Ibid.  p.  23. 

VOL.  VIII.  Z  "  again.] 


338  THE    DOCTRINE         [Book  II. 

"  a^ain].  He  had  named  the  text  twice,  when  he 
ci  was  suddenly  seized  with  a  rattling  in  his  throat, 
"  attended  with  a  hideous  groaning.  He  fell  back- 
"  ward  against  the  door  of  the  pulpit ;  was  carried 
"  away,  as  it  seemed,  dead  into  the  vestry.  In  two 
"  or  three  days  he  recovered  his  senses,  and  the  Sunday 
"  following,  DIED*." 

"  One  of  the  chief  of  those  who  came  to  make  the 
"  disturbance  on  the  first  instant,  had  HAXGKD  HIM- 
t;  SELF.  A  second  of  them  had  been  for  some  days 
(i  in  strong  pain,  and  had  many  times  sent  to  desire 
"  our  prayers.  A  third  came  to  me  himself,  and  con- 
"  fessed,  he  was  hired  that  night  and  made  drunk  on 
"  purpose  :  But  when  he  came  to  the  door,  he  knew 
«  not  what  was  the  matter,  he  could  not  stir  nor  open 
"  his  mouth  |."  Here,  by  ill  luck,  the  miracle  suffers; 
for  drunkenness  alone  is  but  too  apt  to  deprive  a  man 
of  bis  faculties  of  sjieecli  and  local  motion.  :  I  was 
'••-  quite  surprised  when  I  heard  Mr.  II-  -  preach. 
"  That  soft,  smooth,  tuneful  voice,  which  lie  so  often 
"  employed  to  blaspheme  the  Wo/-/:  of  God,  was  lost 
"  without  hope  of  r<  co v  ery:  All  means  had  been  tried, 
"  but  none  took  place.  He  no*  spoke  in  a  manner 

'-'    SHOCKING   TO   HLAItJ,"    &C. "    Mr.  C.    spoke    SO 

«  much  in  favour  of  the  Rioters,  that  they  were  all 
c<  {:  d— a  few  days  after,  Mr.  C.  walking  over 

"  the  same  field  dropt  down,  and  spoke  no  more. 
«  Surely  the  MERCY  of  God  would  not  suffer  a  well- 
"  meaning  man  to  bo  any  longer  a  tool  to  Persecu 
te  t<»  v  •',  — "  Calling  at  Newgate  [in  Bristol]  I  was 
<(  informed  that  the  poor  wretches  under  sentence  of 

*  Journ.  from  Sept.  3,   1741,  to  Oct.  27,  1743*  P-  1O3>  104. 
|  Jourr-  |0¥.  i,  l?39,  to  Sept.  3,   1741. 

j  Journ.  from  Nov.  25,  174^,  to  July  20,  1750,  p.  79- 
4  Ibid.  p.  108. 

<;  death 


Chap.  V.]  OF    GRACE.  339 

'  death  were   earnestly,;-.-       _    to  speak  with   me; 

6  but  that  it  could  not  be :  Alderman  Beecher  having 

"  just  then   sent  an    express  order,  that  they  should 

not.   I  CITL  Aide)  man  Jxtc.^/-  t<;  qQSQfr 
"  Souls  at  the  judgmcn:  irist  *." 

In  reviewing  these  JUDGMI  N  _.i  fulminated 

with  the  air  of  one  who  hud   the  divine  Veng. 
his  disposal)  I  rind  some   difference   between  his  and 
those  inflicted  by  the  Apostles. 

i.  Th.ir  terrors  tall  upon  Cheats  and  Impos: 
such  as  Ananias  and  S.ipphira  :   Elynuu  the  Sorct 
and  Simon  the  -Magician:   Whereas'  the  j^Umeuts  of 
this  new  Apostle  strike  only  the  members  of  his  own 
Church,  for  opposing  ti;e   tumults  of  fiejtf* 
and  the  freaks  of,  what  ho  calls,  THE  XKU-  BIRTH. 
-.  The  Enemies  of  the  infant  Church  were  the  Je- 
Leaders  ;  an.J  tlioy  persecuted  in  good  earned  :  yet  all 
these,  the  Apostit s  left  untouched,   and  reserved  them 
for  a  future  reckoning.     Mr.  Wesley's  ene.  (  his 

own  fellow-member,  and  tney  persecute  in  jest;  that 
is,  they  beat  drums,  they  ring  bells,  and  roar  with  the 
rabble;  yet  these,  with  unrelenting  rage,  he  cutsttf 
troubling  him:  while  the  anger  oAhe  holy  A po.-. 
on  the  like  occasion,  never  rose  higher  than  a  passionate 
M-isht.  These  differences,  1  leave  Mr.  YTesley  to 
reconcile.  There  is  another,  which,  I  think,  I  may 
be  able  to  account  for  myself.  3.  When  the  Aperies 
punished  publicly,  they  as  publicly  pronounced  sen 
tence.  Thus  to  Sapphira,  Behold  tkt  feet  of  than 
ichich  buried  th  11  husband  arc  i:t  the  Door,  and  shall 
carry  thce  out ;  to  Simon,  Thu  ihcn-:ii  perish  \vini 
THEE;  and  to  Elvmas,  JNV:.  <  of  the 

Lord  is  upoy  thee.  and  thou  shalt  be  blind— Rut.  in 
this  very  important  affair,  Mr.  Wesley  appears  to  kive 

'  Journ    from  Nov.  :3.   i;4s.   M  July  *o,   1750,  p.  31. 
t  1 90*14  they  vcrc  cccn  cut  ojt  v/iiclk  trouble  you,  Gal   v.  i 

2  ^  followed 


340  THE   DOCTRINE        [Book  II. 

followed  a  better  model,  the  practice  of  the  INQUI 
SITION  ;  where,  though  the  Execution  be  with  all  the 
•  open  pomp  of  bitter  and  uncharitable  piety,  the  Sen 
tence,  it  is  well  known,  is  ever  pronounced  in  secret. 
In  one  instance  indeed,  he  varies  from  his  model; 
and,  at  Bristol,  commences,  as  we  have  seen,  a  regular 
process  against  Mr.  Alderman  Beecher;  whom  he 
summoneth,  to  give  an  account  for  lost  fhuU,  at  the 
judgment-scat  of  Christ :  Put  whether  the  Alderman 
demurred;  or  whether  lie  cxccpted  to  the  jurisdic 
tion  ;  or  indeed  what  became  of  him,  after  he  had 
been  so  fairly  cited,  we  no  where  learn. 

These  are  some  of  the  extraordinary  Graces  oi 
which  Mr.  J.  Wesley  assumes  the  Privileges.  But 
let  not  this  faithful  view  of  them,  delivered  in  his  own 
words,  be  mistaken  for  a  confutation.  My  purpose, 
here,  is  only  to  shew  that  he  lays  claim  to  them,  and 
so  becomes  a  proper  Subject  of  the  APOSTOLIC  TEST, 
by  which  we  are  enabled  to  discriminate  all  sublunary 
Wisdom  from  that  which  is  from  above.  And  if,  on 
the  application  now  to  be  made,  he  cannot  bear  the 
touch,  it  will  be  our  fault  not  to  see  him  for  the  fu 
ture,  in  his  genuine  FOKM  of  Deluder  and  Fanatic: 
which  he  has  been  long  suspected  to  have  covered 
with  another,  namely,  the  FORM  OF  GODLINESS. 


CHAP.    VI. 

WE  come  now  to  the  application  of  this  Sovereign 
Test,  the  Scourge  and  Confusion  of  Imposture. 
-  This  WISDOM  FROM  ABOVE,  of  which  the  Apostle 
s»>  liighly  predicates,  is,  we  see,  the  same  as  Wisdom 
revealed  immediately  from  Heaven;  but,  descending 
to  Man,  is  adapted  to  the  capacity  of  his  Powers. 
So  that  heavenly  and  earthly  wisdom  have  this  in 

common, 


Chap.  VI.]  OF    GKACK.  34 1 

common,    to  be   COMMUNICABLE,    that   is,    TO   EL. 
UNDERSTOOD.     Foi  to  communicate  nonsense,  which 
is  a  nothing,  is  no  communication.     When  therefore 
\ve  find   a  pretender  to  inspiration,  such  as  JACOB 
BEHMEX,  delivering  to   us,  under  this  Character,  a 
heap  of  unmeaning,  or,   what  amounts  to  the  same 
thing,  unintelligible   words,  we  reasonably  conclude, 
that  if  indeed,  this  Wisdom  did   come  from  above,  it 
hath  so  degenerated  in  its  \vaydo\\n,  as  to  be  ever 
unlit  to  return;   but  must  be  content,  with  the  other 
lapsed  Entities  of  celestial  original,  to  seek  employ 
ment  amongst  fools   and   knaves,   here   below.     Nor 
will  the  Apology  of  his  illuminated  Disciple  *,  in  his 
book  called  Tht  I'/ay  to  divine  Knowledge,  at  all  mend 
the  matter.     "   When  Jacob,  (says  he)  like   Elijah, 
"  in  his   FIERY   CHARIOT,  is   caught  up  into  such 
"  heights,  and  sees  and  relates  such  things  as  I  cannot 
"  yet  comprehend,  I  love  and  reverence  him  for  being 
"  where   I  never  was,  and  seeing  such   things  as  he 
"  cannot  make  me  see ;  just  as  I  love  and   reverence 
"  St.  Paul  t,"  £c.     The  comparison,   we  see,  is  ho- 

*  Mr.  William  Law. 

f  The  way  to  DIVINE   KNOWLEDGE,    &c.  p.   88. — Mr.   John 
Wesley,    indeed,    though    no   enemy   to   these   superb   Vehicles, 
speaks  very  disrespectfully  of  Jacob's  $  cry  Chariot:  "  I  can  and 
"  must  say  thus   much    [of  his   Mysterium  magnum]   and  that 
<•  with  as  full  evidence,  as  I  can  say  that  two  and  two  make  four, 
"  it  is  most   sublime   nonsense,  illimitable  bombast,  fustian  not 
"  to   be   paralleled."     Journal  from   Sept.    3,    1741,  to  Oct.  27, 
1743.      Another  writer,  who  had  the  best    means   of  being  well 
informed,    assures   us,    that   this  Jien/  Chariot  was  not  of  Jewish 
but    of     German    construction.     "   Jac.   Uohmius   Sutor  Gorli-- 
"  censis — Hie  cum  uatura  ipsa  proclivis  esset  ad  res  abditas  per- 
"  ^estigandas,  et   Hob.  Fluddii   ac  Rosajcrucianonun    scita  cog- 
"  novi-sMt.  Th<'oloui;im,  i»ne  tlucc,  imagioatlone    comitc  invenit, 
"  ip^is  Pvthiigoncis  numeris  et  lleracliti   notis  obscuriorem — ita 
4/  enim  Chymicis  imaginat. oni bus  et  tanta  verborum  conl'uiione 
"  et  cali^ine    omnia  miscet,    ut  ipsc  sibi  obsnvpere  videatuf."- 
J.  L.  Mosheinii  I-nst,  Hist.  Eccl.  ant.  &  recent. 

z  3  n curable ; 


342  THE    DOCTRINE        [Book  II. 

nourable ;  though  less  apposite  than  one  could  wish : 
For  here  lies  the  difference  between  Jacob  and  Paul : 
the  Jtosecrucian  talks  largely  of  what  he  knew  his 
reader  could  not  understand ;  and  the  Apostle,  as 
Master  of  himself,  though  not  of  his  Subject,  more 
sagely  observes  a  religious  silence  *.  But  so  will  not 
Mr.  William  Law,  who  is  Master  of  neither.  And 
who,  without  the  blessed  Jacob's  Jicry  Chariot,  can 
soar  like  him  to  the  lunar  region  of  lost  intellects ; 
from  whence  he  brings  us  these  curiosities — a  hungry, 
wrathful,  material  jire — spiritual  materiality — a  mir- 
rour  of  sound— wrath  turned  into  Sun  and  Stars— 
darkness  into  Earth—sud  mobility  into  Air:  And  in 
forms  us  of  these  secrets,  that  life  is  desire ;  that  rage 
is  the  cause  oj  hardness  in  ajl'mt ;  meekness,  of  fluidity 
in  water ;  that  earthly  serpents  are  but  transitory  out- 
births  of  covetoumess,  envy,  pride  and  wrath',  and 
lastly,  that  body  is  only  coagulated  or  Curdled  spirit: 
with  much  more  to  the  same  purpose,  that  would  dis 
grace  even  Bedlam  at  full  moon. 


CHAP.    VII. 

HAVING  shewn  this  Wisdom  to  be,  in  its  nature, 
COMMUNICABLE,  and  so,  cut  off  all  the  bold  pre 
tensions  of  these  MYSTICS,  we  come  to  what  St. 
James  makes  its  first  and  essential  quality;  The 
wisdom Jrom  above,  says  he,  is  FIRST,  PURE;  upwrov 
plv  uyvv  ts-w — i.  e.  pure,  both  from  carnal  and  spiri- 
tual  pollution.  Now  as  Mr.  JVm.  Law  begot 

2  Cor.  xii.  4. 

METHODISM, 


Chap.  VI L]          OF    GRACE.  343 

METHODISM  *,  and  Count  Zinzendorf  rocked  the 
Cradle,  it  may  not  be  improper,  first,  of  all,  to  exa 
mine  their  pretensions  to  this  essential  quality  of  hea 
venly  wisdom,  purity. 

As  purity  respects  practice,  those  followers  of  the 
Count,  the  MORAVIANS,  give  us  little  trouble.     For 
to  pass  by  their  open  Hymn-book,  a  heap  of  blas 
phemous  and  beastly  nonsense ;  if  we  may  give  credit 
to  the  yet  unconfuted  relations  both  in  Print  and  in 
MS.  (composed  by  their  own  Members,  the   Partici 
pants  of  their  most  sacred  mysteries),  their  practices 
in  the  consummation  of  marriage,  or,  as  their  Ritual 
calls  it,  the  Marriage  Economy,  are  so  horribly,  so 
unspeakably  flagitious  f,    that   this  People  seems  to 
have  no  more  pretence  to  be  put  into  the  number  of 
Christian  Sects  than  the  TURLUPINS  of  the  thirteenth 
Century;  a  vagabond  crew  of  miscreants,  who  rambled 
over  Italy,  France,  and  Germany,  under  the  title  of 
Brothers  and  Sisters  of  the  free  Spirit;    who,    in 
speculation,  professed  that  species  of  Atheism,  called 
Pantheism',    and   in   practice,   claimed  an   exemption 
fronTali  the  obligations  of  morality  and  religion. 

The  BEHMENISTS,  indeed,  have  not  extended  the 
FREEDOM  of  their  Spirit  to  this  length  ;  yet  the  Leader 

*  "  Meeting  with  Mr.  Law's  Christian  Perfection  and  serious 
«  Call— the  light  flowed  in  so  mightily  on  my  soul,  that  every 
"  thing  appeared  in  a  new  View/'  &c.  &c.  Journ.  from  F«b.  i, 
1737-8,  to  his  return  from  Germany,  p.  '29. 

f  Mr.  J.  Wesley,  in  a  melancholy  account,  which,  he  says,  he 
received  of  these  Wretches  at  Bedford,  insert  the  follow' ng  par 
ticular—  "  Mr.  Rimius  has  said  nothing  to  what  might  have  been 
"  said  concerning  their  MA  am  AGE  ECONOMY.  I  know  (saith  flic 
"  informer]  a  hundred  times  more  than  he  has  written.  But 
"  the  particulars  are  too  shocking  to  relate.  I  oelieve  no  such 
"  things  were  ever  practised  before,  no  not  amongst  the  most 
"  barbarous  Heathens."  Jouru.  from  July  20,  1750,  to  Oct.  28, 

*754»  P-  74-  - 

z  4  of 


344  THE    DOCTRINE         [Book  II. 

of  the  sect,  amongst  us,  though  manifesting  an  exem 
plary  abhorrence  of  all  carnal  impurity,  has  fallen 
into  the  lowest  dregs  of  the  Spiritual ;  and  hath  written 
a  large  discourse  to  recommend  PANTHEISM,  a  Doc 
trine  so  much  ennobled  by  the  Turlupins,  of  the  thir 
teenth  Century;  so  learnedly  explained  by  the  Carte 
sian  Spinosists,  and  so  politicly  concealed  by  the  Chi 
nese  Virtuosi :  which  teaches,  that  there  is  but  one 
universal  Substance  existing,  of  which,  the  Creature 
and  Creator  (if,  after  this,  they  are  to  be  distinguished) 
participate  in  common.  The  general  principles  of 
this  unhappy  Philosophy,  the  Reader  may  find  in  the 
note  below  *. 

But 

*  "  It  is  the  same  impossibility  for  a  thing  to  be  created  out 
"  of  nothing,  as  to  be  cretited  by  nothing.  It  is  no  more  a  part 
"  or  prerogative  of  God's  omnipotence  to  create  a  Being  out  of 
"  nothing,  than  to  make  a  thing  to  be  without  any  one  quality  of 
"  Being,  in  it — Every  creature  is  nothing  else  tJaan  NATURE 
"  put  into  a  certain  form  of  existence."  An  Appeal  tcTall  that 
doubt  or  disbelieve  the  Truths  of  the  Gospel.  By  W.  Law,  M.  A. 
1742,  p.  8. 

"  That  which  thinks  and  wills  in  the  soul,  is  that  VERY  SAME 
"  unbeginning  breath  which  thought  and  willed  in  God,  before 
>l  it  was  breathed  into  the  form  of  a  human  soul ;  and  therefore 
"  it  is,  that  Will  and  Thought  cannot  be  bounded. — The  essences 
"  of  the  soul  were  a  breath  in  God  before  they  became  a  living 
"  soul,  they  lived  in  God  before  they  lived  in  the  created  soul ; 
u  and  therefore  the  soul  is  a  partaker  of  the  eternity  of  God, 
"  and  can  never  cease  to  be."  p.  10. 

'  The  creation  of  a  soul  is  the  bringing  the  powers  of  thinking 
"  and  willing  out  of  their  eternal  state  in  the  one  God,  into  a 
"  beginning  state  of  self-conscious  life,  distinct  from  God.  And 
"  this  is  God's  omnipotent  creating  ability,  that  he  can  make 
'  the  powers  of  his  own  nature  become  creatural,  living  personal 
;<  images  of  what  he  is  in  himself,  in  a  state  of  DISTINCT  TERSOX- 
"  ALITY  from  him."  p.  12. 

•'  It  is  no  more  a  property  of  the  divine  omnipotence  to  be  able 
"  to  annihilate  a  soul,  than  to  be  able  to  make  an  eternal  truth 

"  become 


Chap.  VII.]  OF    GRACE.  345 

But  next  to  this  impurity  of  fanatic  Wisdom,  which 
sets  NATURE  in  the  throne  of  GOD,  is  that  other, 
which  separates  REASON  from  GRACE.  It  is  "  a 
"  point  we  CHIEFLY  INSIST  UPOX,  (says  Mr.  J. 
"  Wesley,  the  pillar  and  ground  of  Methodism)  that 
"  orthodoxy  or  RK;HT  OPINION  is,  at  best,  but  a  very 
"slender  part  of  Religion,  IF  ANY  PART  OF  IT  AT 
"ALL*."  Here  we  see  REASOX  is,  as  it  were,  dis 
carded  from  the  service  of  RELIGION,  and  from  its 

attendance 

"  become  a  fiction  of  yesterday.  And  to  think  it  a  lessening  of 
"  the  power  of  God,  to  say,  that  he  cannot  annihilate  the  soul,  is 
"  as  absurd  as  to  say,  that  it  is  a  lessening  of  the  light  of  the 
"  Sun,  if  it  cannot  destroy  or  darken  its  own  rays  of  light."  p.  17. 
"  To  suppose  this  or  any  other  MATERIAL  world  to  be  made 
"  out  of  nothing,  has  all  the  same  absurdities  in  it  as  the  sup- 
"  posing  angels  and  spirits  to  be  created  out  of  nothing.  All  the 
"  qualities  of  all  beings  are  eternal. — All  qualities,  properties,  or 
"  whatever  can  be  affirmed  of  God,  are  self-existent  and  neces- 
"  sarily-existent.  Self  and  necessary  existence  is  not  a  particular 
"  attribute  of  God,  but  is  the  general  nature  of  every  thing  that 
"  can  be  affirmed  of  God.  All  qualities  and  properties  are  self- 
"  existent  in  God. — It  follows  undeniably,  that  EVERY  CREATED 

"  THING     MUST    HAVE    ITS    WHOLE    NATURE    FROM,    AND    OUT    OF, 
"  THE  DIVINE    NATURE."      pp.  2$,  24. 

"  Properly  and  strictly  speaking,  nothing  CAN  BEGIN  to  be. 
"  The  beginning  of  every  thing  is  nothing  more  than  its  beginning 
"  to  be  in  a  new  state. — No  quality  or  power  of  nature  then 
"  began  to  be;  but  such  qualities  and  powers  as  had  been  from 
"  all  eternity  began  then  to  be  in  a  new  state.  Ask  what  fire, 
"  light,  darkness,  air,  water,  and  earth  are;  they  are  andean  be 
"  nothing  else  but  some  ETERNAL  THINGS,  BECOME  gross,  finite, 
"  measurable,  divisible  and  transitory :  For  if  there  could  be  a 
"  temporal  fire  that  did  not  spring  out  of  eternal  fire,  then  there 
"  might  be  time  that  did  not  come  out  of  eternity."  pp.  114,  15. 

"  Will  any  one  now  call  these  things  whimsical  .^peculations? 
"  Can  any  thing  be  thought  of,  more  WORTHY  of  Ged,  more 
"  CONFORMABLE  to  Nature,  or  more  CONSONANT  to  all  revealed 
"  Religion?"  p.  118. 

*  Mr.  J.  Weeley's  Plain  Account,  &c.  p.  4. 


346  THE  DOCTRINE         [Book  II. 

attendance  on  GRACE  :  though  one  part  of  the  office 
of  the  Holy  Spirit  be  to  lead  us  into  all  truth.  For 
when  Reason  is  no  longer  employed  to  distinguish 
between  right  and  wrong  in  Opinions,  Religion  hath 
no  further  connexion  with  it.  And  what  occasion  for 
its  service  when  the  distinction,  we  are  told,  is  of  so 
little  consequence  ?  And  yet  if  we  once  agree  to  sepa 
rate  Reason  from  Religion,  Piety  w  ill  soon  degenerate 
into  Superstition  or  Fanaticism.  But  the  Piety  of  the 
first  ages  had  a  different  essence  :  it  was  then  the  glory 
of  the  Gospel  to  be  a  reasonable  Service.  By  this 
quality  it  was  distinguished  from  the  various  modes  of 
Gentile  Worship,  which  entirely  consisted  in  the  fanatic 
Raptures  of  their  Prophets,  and  the  Superstitious  Rites 
of  their  Priests.  Articles  of  belief,  or  a  formula  of 
Faith,  they  left  to  those  Innovators  who  had  now  pre 
tended  to  bring  in  Reason  for  the  regulation  of  Reli 
gion  ;  orthodox  or  right  Opinion  being  (on  the  prin 
ciples  of  these  antient  Masters  of  the  Mob,  the  sup 
porters  of  Paganism)  at  best  but  a  very  slender  part 
of  Religion,  if  any  part  of  it  at  all.  On  the  other 
hand,  St.  PAUL  considered  right_  Opinion  as  a  full 
third  part,  at  least,  of  Religion  ;  where  speaking  of  the 
three  great  supports  which  the  Master-builder,  the 
HOLY  SPIRIT,  had  provided  for  the  Christian-Church, 
he  makes  this,  of  right  opinion^  to  be  one.  The  fruit 
of  the  Spirit  (says  he)  is  in  all  GOODNESS  and  RIGH 
TEOUSNESS  and  TRUTH  *.  For  by  Goodness^  is 
meant  the  conduct  of  Particulars  to  the  Whole  ;  and 
consists  in  the  exemplary  habits  of  social  virtue  :  and 
this  refers  to  CHRISTIAN  PRACTICE.  By  righteous 
ness  £  is  meant  the  conduct  of  the  Whole  to  Particu 
lars  ;  and  consists  in  that  equal  gentleness  of  Govern- 


*  Eph.  v.  9.  f  'Aya(Wv*»j.  J 

ment, 


Chap.  VII.]  OF   GRACE.  347 

ment,  where  Church-  Authority  is  made  to  coincide 

with  the  private  rights  of  Conscience  ;  and  this  refers 

to    CHRISTIAN    DISCIPLINE.     And   by   Truth  *   is 

meant  the  conduct  of  the  Whole  and  of  Particulars  to 

one  another,   mutually  ;  and  consists  in  Orthodoxy  or 

right  Opinion  ;  and  this  refers  to  CHRISTIAN  DOC 

TRINE.     So  different  an  idea  had  St.  Paul  of  RELI 

GION  from  what  this  over-zealous  man  hath  been  led 

to  entertain  of  it.     No  less  was  the  difference,  which 

the  first  Reformers  from  the  errors  of  Popery,  enter 

tained  of  it;  who,  for  the  sake  of  right  ^  opinion.,  occa 

sioned    so  many  revolutions  in  C'rcil  as   well   as  in 

spiritual  Systems  ;  the  perversity  of  men  turning,  as 

it  had  before  done,  the  message  oifeace  into  a  xword^. 

How  much  then  had  all  these  to  answer  for,  if  right 

opinion  be  at  best  but  a  slender  part  of  Religion,  if  any 

part  of  it  at  all.    Without  doubt,  Mr.  Wesley  has,  by 

this  declaration,   provided  well  for  the  fortune  of  his 

own  Sect,  amongst  all  denominations  of  Christians. 

But  what  obligations  the  Church  of  England  (of  which 

he  professes  himself  a  member)  has  unto  him  for  thus 

shortening  the  labours  of  the  Popish  Missionaries,  he 

would  do  well  to  consider.     Such  escapes  as  these,   I 

suppose,  they  were,  which  occasioned  the  reports  of  his 

preaching   Popery  to  his  Followers  ;    a  calumny  of 

which  he  bitterly  complains  :  and  not  without  reason  : 

for,  to  do  him  justice,  I  believe  he  has  as  little  regard 

to  the  interests  of  Popery  as  any  of  his  hearers  ;   and 

as  much  to  his  Own  :  the  truth  seems  to  be  this.    He 

could  not  find  a  better  mean  of  securing  the  honour  of 

his  own  pretensions  than  by  this  extraordinary  decla 

ration.    He  saw  the  exact  resemblance  there  is  between 


f  Matt.  x.  34.     Think  not  that  I  am  come  to  send  peace  on 
earth,  I  came  not  to  send  peace,  but  a  sword. 

his 


348  THE   DOCTRINE        [Book  II. 

his  Saints  and  those  of  the  Church  of  Rome,   at  the 
time  of  the  XEW  BIRTH.    This  might  lead  reflecting 
men  to  conclude,   that  the  Original  of  both  was  the 
same.     Yet  as  the  ^oj3^n  an<^  Protestauj^ojjinions,  or 
Articles  ot  faith,  are  very  opposite  to  one  another,  the 
God  of  Truth  (while  Truth  was  supposed  to  constitute 
a  principal  part  of  Religion)  could  never  be  believed 
to  have  any  thing  to  do  with  the  new  birth,  whether 
Popish  or  Protestant.     Nothing  then  was  left  for  those 
who  had  deserted    Nature,    but  to  ascribe  both  to 
Enthusiasm  or  Demonianism.    To  avoid  this  disgrace, 
Mr.  Wesley  rather  chases  to  let  Popery  share  with 
him  in  the  glory  of  divine  communications,   and  ex 
press!  v  vouches  for  the  Miracles  wrought  at  the  tomb 
of  Abbe  Paris  *.     Now  this  concession  could  be  no 
otherwise  supported,  than  by  inculcating  the  notion, 
that  errors  in  Faith  have  so  little  to  do  with  Religion, 
that  they  are  no  bar  or  impediment  to  the  highest 
iavours  of  the  Holy  Spirit.     It  is  the  point  (says  he) 
we  chiefly  insist:  upon,  that  Orthodoxy  or  right  opinion 
is  at  best  but  a  very  slender  part  of  Religion,  if  any 
part  of  it  at  all.     Great  reason  likewise  had  he  to 
INSIST  ON   THIS  POINT,  on  another  account,  namely, 
the  Character  he  hath  given  of  his  own  Saints.    u  The 
"  more  (says  he)  I  converse  with  this  People,  the  more 
"  I  am  amazed.    That  God  had  wrought  a  great  work 
"  is  manifest.     And  yet  the  main  of  them  —  are  not 
"  able  to  give  a  rational  account  of  the  plainest  prin- 
"  dp  ies  of  Religion"    Nor  is  this  observation  confined 
to  the  People.     He  had  made  a  proselyte  of  Mr.  D. 
vicar  of  B.     And  to  shew  he  was  no  discredit  to  his 
Master,  he  delivers  him  to  us  under  this  Character — 
"  He  seemed  to  stagger  at  nothing ;  though  as  yet  his 

*  Joura.  from  July  20,  1749,  to  Oct.  30,  1751,  p.  23. 

"  under- 


CHap.  VII.]  O  F    G  R  A  C  E.  349 

"  understanding  Is  not  opened*'''     He  then  attempts 
at  the  cause  of  this  strange  Phenomenon.    "  It  is  plain, 
((  God  begins  his  work  at  the  Heart ;  then  the  inspira- 
"  tionofthe  Highest  giveth  understanding  t-"  Butthi* 
solution,  though  it  be  in  Scripture  language,  is  neither 
Scripture  doctrine  nor  history.     In  the  first  propagation 
of  Ileligion7~God  began  with  the  understanding  ;    and 
rational  conviction  won  the  heart.    When  the  Holy 
Ghost  fell  on  the  Disciples  at  the  day  of  Pentecost, 
the  devout  men  of  every  nation  under  heavtn  heard 
them  speak  in  their  own  tongues.     But  what  ?  Not  the 
jaivon  of  fanatic  movements,  but  the  wondered  works 
of  God,  i.  e.  they  heard  them  give  a  rational  account 
of  the  various  parts  of  God's  religious  Dispensations 
to  Mankind.    It  was  just  the  same  on  all  other  occa 
sions  :  when  the  Spirit  first  fell  upon  Believers,   they 
prophesied]  that  is,   they  explained  the  Scriptures  of 
the  Prophets.     But  the  dissension  amongst  the  Corin 
thians  set  this  matter  in  the  clearest  light,   and  shews 
that  the  first  effect  of  inspiration  is  to  give  underlie. < tid 
ing.     Their  understanding  was  so  inlarged  by  all  spi 
ritual  gifts,  that  the  work  not  having  been  begun  at  the 
heart,   they  abused  these  advantages  to  the  violation 
of  Charity.      But,   for  this  discordancy,    betueen  his 
Mission  and  St.  Paul's,   he  has  a  salvo:  he  observes 
occasionally,   in  several  places  of  his  Journal,    "  that 
"  God   now  not  only  does  a  new  work,    but  by  new 
"  ways.'*    This  solution  of  our  spiritual  Empiric,  puts 
one  in  mind   of  the  Quack  in  Molicre,    who  having 
placed  the  freer  on  the  left  side,   and  the  heart  on  the 
right,    and  bring  told  that  the  .structure  of  the  parts 
was  cntainly  otherwise,  replied,   "  Oui,  cela  e"toit  autre 
fois  ainsi;   mais  nous  avons  change  tout  cela,  &  nous 

*  Journ.  from  July  -20,  1750,  to  Oct.  28,  1754,  p.  1  i- 
|  Journ.  from  Nov.  25,  1746,  to  July  ao,  i75<s  ¥•  i**« 

faisOns 


350  THE    DOCTRINE        [Book  II. 

faisons  maintenant  la  medecine  (Tune  methode  toute 
nouvelle." — But  though  he  talks  of  the  under  standing 
coming  after,  this  is  only  to  put  off  his  babes  of  grace 
to  latter  lammas :  Which  he  has  plainly  enough  insi 
nuated  in  a  parallel  between  the  WORK  carried  on  in 
England  and  in  America.  "  I  now  (says  he)  looked 
<c  over  Mr.  Prince's  Christian  History.  What  an 
"  amazing  difference  is  there  in  the  manner  wherein 
"  God  has  carried  on  his  work  in  England  and  in 
"America!  There,  above  an  hundred  of  the  esta- 
"  blished  Clergy,  men  of  age  and  experience,  and  of 
"  the  greatest  note  for  sense  and  learning  in  those 
"  parts,  are  zealously  engaged  in  the  work.  Here, 
"  almost  the  whole  Body  of  the  aged,  experienced  and 
"  learned  clergy,  are  zealously  engaged  against  it :  a 
*'  few,  but  a  handful  of  raw  young  men,  engaged  in 
"it:  without  name,  learning,  or  EMINENT  SENSE  ! 
"  And  yet  by  that  large  number  of  honourable  men 
"  the  work  seldom  flourished  above  six  months  at  a 
"time;  and  then  followed  a  lamentable  and  general 
"  decay,  before  the  next  revival  of  it :  Whereas  that 
"  which  God  hath  wrought  by  these  despised  instru- 
"  ments  hath  continually  increased  for  fifteen  years 
"  together  *."  Now,  what  is  this  but  to  tell  us,  that 
the  understanding  hath  nothing,  and  will  have  nothing, 
to  do  in  the  WORK  ? 

On  the  whole,  therefore,  we  conclude,  That  that 
Wisdom  which  divests  the  Christian  Faith  of  its  Truth, 
and  the  test  of  this  Truth,  Reason,  and  resolves  all 
into  internal  feelings,  into  mystic  spiritualism,  and  ec 
static  raptures,  instead  of  giving  it  the  manly  support 
of  MORAL  DEMONSTRATION,  That  this,  I  say,  can 
never  be  the  wisdom  which  is  from  above,  whose  cha 
racteristic  attribute  is  Purity.  Thus,  on  a  fair  trial, 

*  Journ.  from  July  20,  1750,  to  Oct.  28,  1754,  p.  43. 

these 


Chap.  VIII.]         OF    GRACE.  351 

these  illuminated  Doctors  have,  at  their  very  first 
entrance,  excluded  themselves  from  their  high  preten 
se  u  is  :  Principles  like  these  always  coming  from  Spi 
ritual  impurity :  and  often  leading,  as  we  have  seen, 
into  the  very  sink  of  the  carnal. 


CHAP.    VIII. 

BUT  now,  had  it  been  our  good  fortune  to  have 
found  the  matter  otherwise ;  and  that  the  Wisdom  in 
quired  after  had  rested  upon  that  foundation  on  which 
celestial  Wisdom  must  necessarily  stand  (and  this  it 
might  well  do,  though  it  came  not  immediately  from 
the  Fountain-head  of  Purity ;  as  the  unbroken  Cisterns 
of  Holy  Writ  were  amply  sufficient  to  supply  these 
living  waters)  ;  our  next  business  would  be  to  pro 
secute  the  inquiry,  and  to  apply  the  other  apostolic 
marks  to  these  pretending  Sectaries. 

Of  these  marks,  the  first  only  (which  has  been  so 
amply  discussed)  namely  purity,  respects  the  NATURE 
of  the  Wisdom  from  above ;  or,  in  other  words,  the. 
Doctrines  taught.  All  the  rest,  which  follow,  concern 
the  MANNER  of  teaching,  or  the  Conduct  of  the 
Teachers.  We  are  not  therefore  to  stop  short  in  our 
inquiry,  because  we  may  have  found  that  the  mark  of 
purity  has  answered  to  the  touch ;  though  Mr.  J. 
Wesley  (who  assures  us  that  he  preaches  nothing  but 
the  doctrine  of  the  Church  of  England)  thinks  this 
sufficient  to  satisfy  all  reasonable  men  concerning  his 
conduct.  <c  I  simply  described  (says  he)  the  plain 
"  old  Religion  of  the  Church  of  England,  which  is 

o  »/  %/  vy 

"  now  almost  every  where  spoken  against,  under  the 
"  name  of  METHODISM  *."   If  Methodism  be  spoken 
*  Journ.  from  Aug.  12,  1738,  to  Nov.  i,  1739*  P-  9°- 

against. 


352  THE    DOCTRINE        [Book  II. 

against,  those  who  censure  it,  could  mean  neither  an 
old  nor  a  new  Religion,  since  the  word  signifies  only 
the  manner  of  propagating  either  one  or  the  other. 
And,  of  all  men,  Mr.  Wesley  should  best  know  the 
meaning  of  the  term ;  since  it  was  not  a  nick-name 
imposed  on  the  Sect  by  its  enemies,  but  an  appellation 
of  honour  assumed  by,  and  bestowed  upon,  themselves. 
If  therefore  they  preach  only  the  plain  old  Religion  of 
the  Church  of  England,  they  could  mean  nothing,  by 
Methodism,  but  the  manner  of  preaching  it ;  for  the 
thing  itself  needed  no  other  name  of  distinction  than 
that  which  it  had  already.  Why  then  will  Mr.  J. 
Wesley  so  grossly  misrepresent  his  Adversaries  as  to 
say,  that  when  they  speak  against  Methodism,  they 
speak  against  the  plain  old  Doctrine  of  the  Church  of 
England?  since  he  himself  has  taught  them  to  call 
methodism  (and  they  might  well  have  called  it  by  a 
harder  name)  the  manner,  in  which  he  and  his  follow 
ers  attempt  to  propagate  this  plain  old  Religion. 

However,  strip  him  of  his  prevarication  and  his 
sophistry,  and  we  find  him  plainly  enough  declaring, 
"  That  the  manner  of  preaching,  so  it  be  truth  which 
"  is  preached,  ought  to  give  no  offence."  And,  to  this 
purpose,  he  relates  the  following  conversation :  "  A 
u  serious  Clergyman  desired  to  know,  In  what  point 
tc  we  differed  from  the  Church  of  England  ?  I  answer- 
"  ed,  To  the  best  of  my  knowledge,  in  none.  The 
"  Doctrines  we  preach  are  the  Doctrines  of  the  Church 
"  of  England.  Indeed,  the  fundamental  doctrines  of 
"  the  Church,  clearly  laid  down  both  in  her  Prayers, 
"  Articles,  and  Homilies  *." 

Be  this  never  so  true,  yet  it  will  still  be  as  true  that 
the  most  holy  things  may  be  depraved,  in  passing 
through  impure  hands;  and  that,  RIGHT  OPINION, 

*  Juurn,  from  Aug.  1*2,  1738,  to  Nov.  i,  1739,  p.  81. 

which 


Chap.  VIII.]  OF    GRACE.  353 

which  inspires  wisdom  and  promotes  peace,  may  then 
serve  for  nothing  hut  to  turn  the  heads  and  hearts  of 
men  to  folly  and  dissension,  otherwise  naturally  framed 
and  di-posed  to  profit  hy  the  truth.  Indeed,  a  I-AXA- 
TIC  .UAXXKR  of  preaching,  though  it  were  the  doctrine 
of  an  Apostle,  may  do  more  harm,  to  Society  at  least, 
than  a  modest  revival  of  old  speculative  heresies,  or, 
than  the  invention  of  ?tew-  since  it  tends  to  bewilder 
the  Reason  of  some,  to  inflame  the  Passions  of  others  ; 
and,  in  that  state  of  things,  to  spread  disorder  and 
disturbance  throughout  the  whole  Community.  And 
in  subjection  to  the  Civil  Community  was  the  Gospel 
first  preached  ;  and  under  the  protection  of  it  was  it, 
at  length,  every  where  established.  For,  what  does 
FIELD  PREACHING  (for  instance)  imply,  but  &  famine 
of  the  ITord,  occasioned  by  a  total  neglect  in  the 
spiritual  Pastors  appointed  by  Law?  And  what  can  it 
produce,  but  strong  resentments  in  behalf  of  the  Minis 
ters  of  Religion,  thus  injuriously  treated  :  What  can 
be  the  issue  of  the  XKW  IJHITH,  attended  with  those 
infernal  throes  and  frightful  agitations  so  graphically 
described  in  the  Journals  of  Mr.  J.  Wesley,  but  high 
ferments  in  behalf  of  Religion  itself,  thus  scandalously 
dishonoured  and  traduced? 

The  sacred  Writer  himself,  who  delivered  this  TEST 
for  the  trial  of  these  Men's  pretensions,  was  unquestion 
ably  in  these  sentiments,  "  that  a  .fanatic  Spirit  did 
more  mischief  in  the  mode  of  teaching,  than  an  em>- 
mwus  one,  in  the  matter  taught;"  since,  of  half  a 
do/en  marks  recommended  for  this  purpose,  the  first 
only  is  applicable  to  the  doctrine ;  all  the  rest  concern 
•the  mftHHrrx  of  the  Teacher. 

Nay,  what  is  more,  we  have  Mr.  J.  Wesley  himself, 
for  oiK-o,  on  the  side  of  the  Apostle,  where  he  says, 
that  it  M  a  point  he  chittfi/  huhts  upw,  thai  ORTHO- 

Voi..   VIII.  A, A  DOXY 


354  THE    DOCTRINE          [Book  I L 

DOXY  or  RIGHT  OPIXIOX  /.v,  at  best,  but  a  very 
slender  part  of  Religion,  [f  any  part  of  It  at  all.  The 
Operation  of  H elision  on  the  heart  therefore  (which 
with  him  is  the  same  as  on  the  fancy,  and  manifests 
itself  in  corporeal  agitations)  is  the  principal  point. 
But  this,  altogether  resolves  itself  into  the  manner  of 
propagating  the  Faith. 

Yet  still  it  may  be  disputed,  Who  it  is  that  becomes 
answerable  for  the  disorders  occasioned  by  this  mw 
mode  or  method  of  propagating  Religion?  Is  it  Mr. 
J.  Wesley,  or  is  it  his  Adversaries?  lie,  I  make  no 
question,  will  exculpate  himself  by  the  direction  of 
St.  Paul  to  Timothy — to  preach  the  word,  in  season, 
and  out  of  season.  Which  implies,  he  thinks,  that  the 
manner  can  never  be  amiss,  or  made  chargeable  with 
blame. 

But  he  would  infer  more  from  the  Text  than  it  will 
bear;  and  misapply  it,  into  the  bargain.  This  direc 
tion  relates  to  time  only,  which  is  but  one  of  the  many 
circumstances  attending  the  manner  of  preaching  ;  and 
that  one,  in  which  the  abuse  is  least  material.  The 
application  (as  we  say)  is  no  less  faulty.  The  direc 
tion  is  confined  to  the  state  of  things  then  existing; 
when  the  suffering  Church  had  so  few  opportunities 
to  preach  the  word,  that  all,  whether  seasonable  or 
unseasonable,  were  with  reason  to  be  laid  hold  on. 
When  the  Church  was  once  established,  and  Jived  and 
seasonable  times  were  appointed  for  holy  offices,  then 
(as  every  one  may  see)  to  fly  to  the  unseasonable  would 
be  factious,  and  a  breach  of  the  discipline  of  that 
Church,  of  which  the  transgressor  professed  himself  a 
member.  To  judge,  therefore,  of  the  integrity  of  Mr. 
J.  Wesley's  conduct,  we  must  turn  from  the  directions 
which  St.  Paul  givesjfcr  his  oicn  times,  to  those  which 
St.  James  gives  for  all  times 


Chap.  IX.]  OF    GRACE.  355 

C  II  A  P.    IX. 

AND  this  leads  us  on,  in  our  Inquiry.  The 
Wisdom  from  above  (says  this  Apostle)  isjirst  pure, 
then  PEACEABLE. — To  be  PEACEABLE  is  a  leading 
quality  in  its  general  Character.  A  Choir  of  Angels 
ushered  in  the  Advent  of  the  Son  of  God,  with  peace, 
good  it-ill  towards  men  *.  And  He  himself,  on  his 
departure  from  us,  bequeathed  it  to  us,  as  his  dearest 
legacy :  Peace  I  leave  with  you ;  my  peace  I  give 
unto  you  f.  Now  that  which  the  FATHER  proclaimed, 
which  the  Sox  bestowed,  must  needs  be  of  the  office 
of  the  HOLY  GHOST  to  maintain.  Whatever  form 
(f  godliness,  therefore,  hath  not  this  Characteristic 
mark,  can  never  reasonably  be  deemed  of  heavenly 
extraction. 

That  the  propagation  of  Methodism  hath  occasioned 
many  and  great  violations  of  peace,  Mr.  Wesley  hath 
amply  shewn  in  the  journalary  history  of  his  Adven 
tures. 

Hut  as  in  all  contests  between  party  and  party,  the 
blame  is  reciprocally  thrown  upon  one  another ;  before 
we  come  more  directly  to  adjust  the  share  which  may 
be  fairly  cast  upon  Methodism,  it  may  be  useful  pre 
viously  to  inquire  into  that  temper  which  makes  for 
peace ;  for  we  may  be  reasonably  well  assured,  that 
the  fault  lieth  not  in  that  quarter  where  such  a  temper 
is  found.  Now  our  blessed  Redeemer,  who  so  ear 
nestly  recommends  his  peace  to  us,  hath  given  us 
directions  how  to  preserve  it :  Be  ye  therefore  u-ise 
PRUDENT]  as  Serpents,  and  harmless  as 
J. 

Luke  ii.  14.  f  John  xiv.  27. 

t  Mutt.  x.  i>>.    So  again,  Who  is  that  faithful  and  tow  \^^»i^t 
Si-rcant?    Matt.  xxiv.  45. 

A  A  :>  And 


J5$  THE    DOCTRINE          [Book II. 

And  he,  who  gave  his  Followers  no  precept,  re 
garding  lite  and  manners,  which  he  did  not  eminently 
recommend  by  his  own  example,  was  the  most  per 
fect  pattern  of  innocence,  under  the  direction  of  PRU 
DENCE;  as  appears  in  his  dextrous  evasions  to  captious 
questions  of  the  Jewish  Leaders,  who  wanted  matter 
to  inflame  the  people  against  him  ;  in  his  avoiding  the 
People  when  thus  inflamed  ;  and,  above  all,  in  his  de 
clining  an  untimely  promulgation  of  his  Messiah-Cha 
racter  \  which  would  either  have  occasioned  civil  com 
motions,  or  have  endangered  his  life  before  he  had 
completed  his  Ministry.  The  first  instance  of  this 
consummate  prudence,  is  too  important  not  to  be  more 
particularly  explained.  if  There  came  to  him  (says 
"  St.  Mark)  the  Chief  Priests  and  Scribes,  and  the 
"  Elders,  and  say  unto  him,  I]y  what  authority  dost 
"  thou  these  things  ?  and  who  gave  thce  this  authority  ? 
"  And  Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  them,  I  will  also 
"  ask  of  you  one  question,  and  answer  me,  and  I  will 
"  tell  you  by  what  authority  I  do  these  things.  The 
11  baptism  of  John,  was  it  from  Heaven,  or  of  Men? 
"  answer  me.  And  they  reasoned  \\ith  themselves, 
<£  saying,  If  we  shall  say,  From  heaven ;  he  will  say, 
"  Why  then  did  ye  not  believe  him?  But  if  we  shall 
"  say,  Of  men ;  they  feared  the  People :  For  all 
"  men  counted  John,  that  he  was  a  Prophet  indeed  : 
."  And  they  answered  and  said  unto  Jesus,  We  can- 
"  not  tell.  And  Jesus  answering,  saith  unto  them, 
"  Neither  do  I  tell  you,  by  what  authority  I  do  these 
"  things  V 

A  direct  answer  to  this  question,  apparently  reason 
able,  and  urged  by  those  who  had  authority  to  demand 
it,  must  have  immaturely  revealed  what  the  destined 
Ministry  of  Jesus  made  necessary  to  be  kept  secret. 

*  Chap.  xi.  27,  Sf  sc<]% 

And 


Chap.  IX.]  OF    GRACE.  3:,7 

And  yet,   to  evade  the  question,  in  such  a  manner  as 
was  sufficient  to  satisfy  Authority,  needed  all  thut  divine 
prudence  with  which  the  Author  of  our  Salvation  was 
endowed,     lie  therefore  replies,    "  first,  answer  me 
this  question  concerning  John."     The  question  was 
reasonable,  considered  in  the  view  of  an  argument  ad 
iwnuncw',  it  was  reasonable,   from  the  force  it  had  in 
it-elf:   For  if  it  should  appear,  that  that  question  had 
not  been  determined  in  the  ease  of  John,   it  was  evi 
dent  trom  their  oun  conduct,   that  the  jurisdiction  of 
the  Sanhedrim  was  not  violated  by  any  man's  declining 
to  answer  one  of  the  same  import.     Further,  the  ques 
tion  was  reasonable  and  proper  in  itself.    John  public 
ly  professed  himself  the  forerunner  of  Jesus:  So  that 
it  it  were  necessary  for  the  Sanhedrim  to  come  at  the 
true  knowledge  of  the  general  Case,  they  should  have 
begun  with  John.    This,  the  natural  order  of  a  judicial 
proceeding  required.  Nor  would  the  Chief  Priests  have 
been  backward  to  answer  it,  in  either  view.     But  here 
lay  the  difficulty  ;  the  People  were  of  one  opinion  con 
cerning  John,  and  the  Sanhedrim  of  another.     This 

embarras  silenced  them.     And  in  our  Saviour's  takin" 

t> 

advantage  of  that  circumstance  consists  the  divine  dex 
terity  of  his  exemplary  prudence.  Neither  do  1  teli 
you  (says  he)  by  ichat  authority  I  do  thexe  thing*. 
As  much  as  to  say,  "  Both  on  my  principles  and  on 
your  own,  a  previous  question  is  first  to  be  resolved, 
namely,  concerning  the  baptism  of  John.  When  you 
have  answered  this,  then  comes  my  time  to  answer 
yours:  But  till  then,  you  have  no  ri^ht  to  insist  upon 
an  answer." — Such  instances  of  Prudence,  and  so 
divinely  managed,  made  St.  Paul,  where  hi  his  Epistle 
to  the  Kphesians  he  distinguishes  (in  the  twofold  Cha 
racter  of  the  blessed  Jesus)  between  his  office  of 
from  Sin,  and  Preacher  of  Righteousness, 
A  A  3  express 


358  THE    DOC  T  R  1  N  E         [Book  II. 

express  his  latter  office  in  these  emphatic  words,  lit 
hath  abounded  towards  us  in  all  wisdom  and  P  itu  r>  E  N  c  E*, 
c-op/a  xj  f^ovAr«.  Which,  as  appears  by  what  follows, 
the  Apostle  makes  to  consist  in  his  Master's  suiting 
and  adapting  the  various  Revelations  of  his  Will  to  the 
peculiar  seasons  and  occasions  when  the  knowledge  of 
it  was  become  useful  to  the  furtherance  of  the  Faith. 
Having  (says  St.  Paul)  made  known  unto  us  the  Mys 
tery  of  his  will,  according  to  his  good  pleasure,  which 
he  haih  purposed  in  himself:  that  in  the  dispensation 
of  the  fulness  of  time,  he  miglit  gather  together  in 
one,  all  things  in  Christ,  $c.  By  which  the  Apostle 
seems  principally  to  have  in  mind  that  obscure  and 
backward  intimation,  which,  for  some  time,  kept  hid 
from  his  Disciples  this  mystery  oj  Jus  will\  the  usual 
title  given  by  the  sacred  Writers. to  the  calling  in  of  the 
Gentiles  into  the  Church  of  Christ.  The  prudence  of 
which  conduct  is  obvious.  The  Gospel  was  to  be  first 
offered  to  the  Jews.  But  their  reception  of  it  was  so 
•unkind,  that,  had  the  Apostles  been  then  acquainted 
•with  this  Mysfety,  they  had  been  tempted  to  turn  to 
the  Gentiles,  before  the  mission  to  the  Jews  had 
been  fairly  completed.  When  that  was  accomplished, 
the  mystery  was  revealed,  in  all  its  splendor,  to 
St.  Peter. 

On  the  whole,  therefore,  we  see,  that  THE  PEACE 
FUL  CHARACTER  is  THAT,  WHERE  INNOCENCE  is 
UNDER  THE  DIRECTION  OE  PRUDENCE.  Emancipated 
from  this  direction,  Innocence  becomes  a  prey  both  to 
itself  and  to  others  ;  and  is,  either  actively  or  passively, 
the  perpetual  source  of  Discord. 

Let  us  see,  now,  the  regard  our  new  Missionaries 
profess  to  pay  to  this  precept  and  example  of  their 
Master.  II u .MAN  PRUDENCE  has,  somehow  or  other, 

*  Chap.  i.  8. 

SO 


Chap.  IX.]  OF    OR  A  C  K.  359 

so  highly  offended  Mr.  .1.  Wesley,  that  he  scruples  not 
to  call  it,  the  MYS-J  FRY  OF  IXIQLITY  and  the  OFF- 
SPRINT.  OF  HELL — "  Ihelieve  (says  he)  it  pleased 
"  Ood  to  bless  the  first  Sermon  most,  because  it  gave 
*(  most  offence,  being  indeed  an  open  defiance  of  that 
"  mystery  of  inifjiiity  which  the  World  calls  Puu- 
"  DF.VCI-:  *."  As  he  here  informs  us,  Who  gave  it  that 
Name,  one  might  be  apt  to  suppose  he  meant,  the 
Pntd&tce  of  the  unjust  Sitetiwri/,  which  is  indeed  the 
mystery  of  Iniquity,  did  not  he  himself  forbid  us  to 
understand  it  in  this  sense,  by  fairly  telling  us  that  he 
meant,  what  the  World  calls  CHRISTIAN  Prudence. 
And  as  bad  as  the  World  is,  I  think  it  never  qualified 
the  prudence  of  the  unjust  Steward  with  that  attribute. 
— "  Ood,  deliver  me,  and  all  that  seek  him  in  sin- 
"  cerity,  from  what  the  World  calls  CHRISTIAX  Puu- 
"  DKXCE  'I'."  And  again,  to  a  friend  who  approved 
not  of  \\\*  field-preaching,  " — I  fear  that  offspring 
"of  Hell,  worldly  or  mystic  IMIUDFXCF,  hath  drawn 
"  you  away  from  the  simplicity  of  the  Gospel  ;[;."  If 
his  aversion  to  Prudence  be  thus  great,  his  enmity  to 
those,  amongst  whom  it  is  usually  found,  can  scarce  be 
thought  le.-s,  from  the  hard  words  he  gives  whenever 
he  speaks  of  them — •"  Mrs.  Baddilcy  (says  he)  desired 
"  me  to  go  up  to  her  Son,  who  had  been  out  of  order 
;t  for  some  days.  For  a  year  or  two  he  was  a  pattern 
'"'  to  all  the  family,  till  he  began  to  converse  more 
"  with  GOOD  SORT  OF  MEN'.  He  then  grew  cooler 
"  and  cooler  in  the  ways  of  God,  and  in  a  few  months 
"' quitted  the  Society  §.'' — "It  is  absolutely  needful 
"•  for  such  a  one  as  me  to  follow  the  wise  advice  of 

*  Journ.  from  Fe'>.  l,  1737-8,  to  his  return  from  Germany,  p.  12, 

f  Journ.  from  Aug.  12,  1738,  to  Nov.  i,  1739,  p.  13. 

t  Ibid.  pp.  56,  57- 

§  Jouru.  from  Nov.  '25,  1746,  to  July  -20,  1750,  p.  31. 

A  A  4  «  Mr, 


360  THE    D  O  C  T  R  I  N  E         [Took  II. 

"  Mr.  Herbert.  And  this,  I  bless  God,  I  can,  iri 
"  some  measure,  do,  while  I  avoid  that  BANE  OF 
"  ALL  RELIGION,  the  Company  of  GOOD  SORT  ov 
*'  MEX,  as  they  are  called,  Persons  who  have  a  liking 
"  to,  but  no  SENSE  of,  Religion;"  [i.e.  no  ecstatic 
feelings  or  the  pains  of  the  new  birth,  £c.]  "  Rut 
"  these  insensibly  undermine  all  my  resolution,  and 
"  steal  away  what  little  ZEAL  I  have  *  ;"  i.  e.  persuade 
him  to  be  peaceable. 

And  again,  speaking  of  one  of  his  Backsliders,  he 
says — "  but  indulging  himself  in  HARMLESS  COM 
PANY  he  firbt  made  shipwreck  of  his  ZEAL,  mid  then 
of  his  FAITH  -|~."  In  this  I  think  he  is  right.  The 
Zeal  and  the  Faith  of  a  FANATIC  are  such  exact 
tallies  to  one  another,  that  I  have  no  conception  how 
either  can  exist  alone.  They  came  into  the  World 
together  to  disturb  Society  and  dishonour  Christianity; 
and  they  must  go  out  together  before  the  One  can 
regain  its  peace,  or  the  other  its  dignity. 

On  the  whole,  we  find  that  Mr.  J.  Wesley  is,  by 
his  own  confession,  entirely  destitute  of  that  temper 
$S  which  makes  for  peace :  If  therefore  his  preaching  be 
attended  with  tumults  and  disorders,  we  cannot  but 
ascribe  it  to  the  want  of  that  quality,  which  the 
Founders  of  our  holy  Religion  made  essential  to  the 
successful  propagation  of  the  G&Sfkl  of  Peace >  namely, 
PRUDENCE.  It  is  true,  Mr.  Wesley,  as  we  have 
seen,  throws  the  whole  fault  of  these  tumults  on  the 
DEVIL;  and  this  maybe  allowed  him  in  the  sense 
that  every  paltry  Pilferer  and  Sabbath- breaker  is 
used  to  do.  But  if  we  seek  for  the  more  immediate 

*  Journ.  from  Aug.  12,   1738,  to  Nov.  j,   1739,  p.  31. 
t  Journ.  from  his   embarking  for  Georgia,  to   his  return  to 
London,  p.  41, 

cause, 


Chap.  IX.j  OF    GRACE.  361 

cause,     we    shall    find   it  much    nearer  hand.     The 
Roman  Satirist  pretended, 

-  Nullum  Ximie-n  abcst,  si  sit  PRUDEX-TM. 

} There  PKL  IU:\CK  governs,  no  (rod  is  minting  to 
keep  the  world  In  order.  We  may  say,  \vith  more  so 
briety  and  truth,  that  where  IM  I'KUDENCK  takes  the 
lead,  there  needs  no  Devil  to  throw  it  into  confusion. 
What,  for  instance,  more  strongly  tends  to  tumult  and 
disorder,  than  for  One  who  professes  to  propagate 
only  the  plain  old  fketigion  of  the  Church  of  England, 
to  set  at  nought  its  established  Discipline,  by  invading 
the  province  of  the  parochial  Minister;  by  assembling 
in  undue  places  and  at  unlit  times ;  by  speaking  ceil 
(if  Dignities,  in  scurrilous  invectives  against  the  Go 
vernors  and  Pastors  of  the  national  Church?  Insolences 
of  tiiis  nature  provoke  warm  and  ill-instructed  men  to 
demand  justice  on  the  offenders:  Which  not  being  at 
hand  (as  the  interests  of  Society  will  not,  always,  per 
mit  the  Magistrate  to  enforce  it,  where  the  insults  on 
his  office  are  covered  \\iih  the  pretences  of  Religion), 
Particulars  are  but  too  apt  to  seek  that  in  a  tumultuary 
and  criminal  way,  which  all  the  providence  of  Govern 
ment,  and  all  the  equity  of  Law,  are  but  barely  sutii- 
cient  to  adjust,  with  aich  discretion,  as,  that  while 
the  dignity  of  the  State  is  vindicated,  the  rights  of 
Religion  are  not  infringed. 

Nor  will  that  fanatic  Apology,  which  is  ever  at 
hand,  be  any  excuse  for  them  in  the  commission  of 
their  disorders;  namely,  u  That  the  violation  of  peace, 
among*  t  men  serves  to  advance  the  peace  o/  God; 
our  blessed  Ma-t-r  having  himself  declared,  that  he. 
;tv/.v  not  come  to  send  Peace  on  earth,  hat  a  sirord" 
Now  the  same  Spirit  which  disposes  them  to  apply  to 
their  own  case  all  those  declarations  concerning  the 

first 


362  THE    DOC T  R 1  N  E         [Book  II. 

first  extraordinary  state  of  the  Gospel,  hinders  them 
from  seeing,  that  these  words  of  Jesus  respect  only 
the  accidental  and  transient  struggle  of  the  then  ex 
piring  Powers  of  darkness;  but  that  the  heavenly 
Proclamation  of  peace  toward?  men,  declares  the 
genuine  and  constant  fruits  of  Gofs  good-will  to  his 
Creatures :  that  thejirst  only  predicted  the  early  for 
tunes  of  a  suffering  Church ;  and  that  the  of  her 
described  the  essential  nature,  the  eternal  genius,  of 
an  all-beneficent  Religion.  But  Enthusiasts,  hurried 
on  by  the  fervours  of  an  inflamed  fancy,  lose  sight  of 
a  Christian  land,  and  a  believing  Magistrate ;  and 
have  nothing  before  their  eyes  but  a  Country  of  Pagans 
and  Idolaters,  with  the  Princes  of  this  world  risen  up 
to  suppress  and  persecute  the  Ilrord  of  life.  Under 
these  delusions,  it  is  no  wonder  that  they  despise 
order,  insult  Government,  and  set  their  Rulers  at 
defiance. 

But  PEACE  is  the  cure  of  FANATICISM,  as  Fana- 
tic/.sm  is  the  bane  of  Peace.  Sectaries  must  either 
kick  or  be  kicked.  They  must  either  persecute,  or 
they  must  provoke  persecution.  To  bo  in  this  turbu 
lent  state,  is  living  in  their  proper  element. 

As  every  Libertine  aspires  to  be  on  the  laughing 
side,  so  every  Zealot  would  fain  be  on  the  pcr&cvtctvig. 
But  Zealots,  as  well  as  other  Adventurers,  must  take 
their  chance  in  this  world,  whatsoever  security  they 
have  made  for  the  other.  We  see  METHODISM,  at 
present,  under  a  well-established  watchful  Govern 
ment,  where  it  is  obliged  to  wear  a  less  audacious 
look.  To  know  its  true  character,  and  native  dispo 
sition,  we  should  see  it  in  all  its  fortunes.  And  this 
our  own  Country,  productive  of  every  strange  thing, 
hath  given  us  ample  means  to  contemplate.  For 
They,  who  now  go  under  the  name  of  METHODISTS, 
20  were, 


Chap.  IX.]  O  F    G  R  A  C  E. 

were,  in  the  days  of  our  Forefathers,  called  PRECI 
SIANS;  terms  of  their  own  devising,  and  (as  the  fruits 
of  the  same  spirit)  nearly  synonymous,  importing  that 
the  bearers  of  them  had   carefully  squared   out   their 
Religion  by  line  and  level.     The  elder  Methodism,  on 
its  first  appearance,  put  on  the  same  sutl'ering  exterior, 
which   we  see  the  younger    Brother  wear  at  present. 
During  the  firm  administration  of  Elizabeth  it  disguised, 
and  but  barely  disguised,  its  native  ferocity,  in  a  feigned 
submission ;     alter    having     invited    persecution    with 
the  air   of  a  persecutor.     Those   times,   we  may   be 
sure,    would   pot  suiih*   it  to  wait   long  for  what  it 
wanted.     And  then,  as  a  precious  Metal,  which  had 
undergone  its  trial   in  the  lire,  and    left  all  its  dross 
behind,   the   Sect,   with   great  propriety,    changed  its 
name,    from   PUKCISIAX    to   PL*  HIT  AN.     But  in   the 
weak  and   distracted  times  of  Charles   the    First,    it 
ventured  to  throw  off  the  mask;  and,  under  the  name 
of  INDJ;I>KMM.XT,   became  the  chief  Agent  of  all  the 
dreadful    disorders    which  terminated    that    unhappy 
reign.     For  IXDKPE.YDENCV    was    a  name    as   well 
suited  to  the  weakness  of  that  Government,  which   it 
defied    and    overturned,     as    METHODISM    is  to    the 
strength  of  This,  of  which  it  stands  in  awe.     Nor  is 
this  Pedigree,  which  makes  Methodism  of  the  younger 
House  to  Independem-y,  invented,  like  heraldic  fictions, 
to  ennoble  my  subject.     Whoever  reads  the  large  ac 
counts  of  the  Spiritual  Mute,   of  the  Regicides  while 
under  condemnation  (written   and    published,  at   that 
time,  by  their  friends,  to  make   them  pass,  with   the 
People,  for  Saints  and  iVIarlyrs),   and  compares  them 
with   the   circumstantial  Journals  of  the  Mcthodisti, 
will  find  so  exact  a  conformity  in  the  frenzy  of  senti 
ment,  and  even   in  the  cant  of  expression,  upon   the 
subjects  of  Faith,  Grace,   Redemption.  Regeneration, 

Justification, 


364  THE    D  O  C  T 11 1 N  E          [Book  II. 

Justiiication,  &c.  as  may  fully  satisfy  him,  that  they 
are  both  of  the  same  Stock  ;  and  ready,  on  a  return 
of  the  like  kindly  season,  to  produce  the  same  fruits. 
All  the  difference,  which  distance  of  times  and  variety 
of  circumstances  have  effected,  is  only  this :  The 
Metkodad  is  now,  an  Apostolic  Independent ;  and  the 
Independent  was  then,  a  Mahometan  Methodist. 

Indeed,  it  hath  been  Mr.  J.  Wesley's  mishap,  with 
every  other  requisite  of  a  skilful  Leader,  to  fall  upon 
times  very  unpropitious  to  the  fortunes  of  a  new  Sect. 

He  found  himself  in  a  Government  whose  equity 
abhorred  Persecution  for  Religion ;  arwl  whose  firm 
ness,  on  the  other  hand,  would  not  suffer  its  princi 
ples  of  Toleration  to  be  abused,  to  the  disturbance  of 
Society.  Here  was  little  room  for  the  exertion  of  that 
quality  by  which  a  Sectary  may  be  properly  said  to 
exist,  namely,  ZEAL  active  or  passive.  He  wanted 
to  be  persecuted ;  but  Persecution  would  not  come  at 
his  call.  Yet,  it  must  be  owned,  he  used  every  extra 
ordinary  method  to  provoke  it :  The  time  was  now 
past,  when  it  could  be  said  of  this  Demon,  as  of  the 
less  mischievous  ones  of  old,  "  Vocatus,  aut  non  vo- 
ctitus,  audit."  The  advantages  of  persecution  to  a 
new  Sect,  Mr.  J.  Wesley  is  not  at  all  shy  in  con 
fessing — "  About  one,  I  preached  at  Holton,  where 
44  likewise  all  is  now  calm,  after  a  violent  storm  of 
"  several  weeks,  wherein  many  were  beaten  and 
"  wounded,  and  outraged  various  ways;  but  NONE 
"  MOVED  from  their  stcd fast  ness.  In  the  evening,  I 
"  preached  at  Annley,  to  many  icho  want  a  storm, 
"  being  quite  UXXKRVED  by  constant  Sunshine  *.''  It 
is  the  same  conscious  want  which  makes  him  complain 
of  ill  treatment;  and  yet  be  dissatisfied  with  good — 
k'  We  came  to  St.  Ives  before  morning  prayers,  and 

*  Jouin.  from  Nov.  -25,  1740,  to  July  so,  1750,  p.  88. 

«  walked 


<  ti;li>.  IX.]  OF    GRACE.  365 

"  walked  to  Church  without  so  much  as  one  hnzxn. 
"  How  strangely  has  one  year  changed  the  scene  in 
"  (Cornwall !  This  is  now  a  peaceable,  nay  honour- 
"  able  station.  They  give  us  good  worrls  in  almost 
"  every  place.  What  hare  ice  done,  that  the  World 
"  should  be  so  civil  to  M.V  *  ?  " 

Is  not  this  the  language  of  a  man  whom  nothing 
can  please,  when  he  is  defeated  in  a  secret  purpose, 
which  he  is  ashamed  to  own?  He  languished,  we  see, 
for  good  WHOLESOME  SEVERITIES.  Many  (as  he. 
well  expresses  it)  wanted  a  storm,  being  quite  UN 
NERVED  by  constant  Sunshine.  To  supply  this  want, 
which  the  Magistrate  so  cruelly  denied,  lie  is  forced 
to  make  the  best  of  those  mock  persecutions,  the 
Drums  and  Huzzas  of  the  Rabble.  And  so  blood  v 
always  are  his  ideas,  by  a  constant  meditation  on  this 
subject,  that,  speaking  of  the  misnomers  of  the  Grand 
Jury  of  Cork,  in  their  presentment  of  his  Brother  and 
half  a  score  more  itinerant  Preachers,  as  vagrants  and 
persons  of  ill  tame,  &c.  he  thus  expresses  himself — 
"  The  names  (only  most  of  them  rhli&rabty  jnatig&d 
and  murdered)  were  designed  for  the  names  of  eight 
Preachers  t,"  &c.  The  future  Martyrologfot  whom 
favouring  Destiny  has  appointed  to  collect  together 
the  Saints  and  Martyrs  of  this  afflicted  Church,  will, 
if  lie  be  wise,  never  suffer  himself  to  be  misled  into  a 
belief  that  this  mingling  and  fo&rdering  can  refer  to 
names;  or  indeed  to  any  thing  less  than  to  an  I  risk 
Massacre,  charitably  disguised  by  our  meek  Apostle, 
under  a  figure,  not  to  say  a  deformity  of  Speech.  To 
give  these  Persecutions  all  the  rtY/V/'in  his  power,  he 
expatiates  on  every  adventure  with  such  circumstance, 

*  Journ.  from  Nov.  25,  1746,  to  July  so,  I7',o,  p.  :;i. 
f  Jtt'irn.  from  July  *o.   1749,  to  Oct.  30,   1751,  p.  4. 

that 


366  THE    DOCTRINE        [Book  IT. 

that  there  is  hardly  a  turnip-top  thus  sacrilegiously 
employed,  which  has  not  had  the  honour  of  being  re 
corded,  l&it  this  is  for  Posterity :  Something  more 
was  to  be  done  for  the  sake  of  the  unnerved  Brethren. 
This  small  pittance  of  persecution,  poor  as  it  is,  must 
be  turned  to  use  while  time  served,  lest,  like  a  flame 
of  straw,  it  should  go  out  as  soon  as  it  was  put  into 
a  blaze.  He  therefore  contrives  to  keep  persecution 
alive  by  prosecuting  his  Persecutors :  And,  to  make 
his  revenge  the  sweeter,  lie  does  it  on  the  Toleration 
Act ;  the  Law  which  does  him  so  much  mischief,  in 
depriving  him  of  a  real  Persecution.  This  he  notably 
turns  against  itself,  and  makes  an  Instrument  to  sup 
port  and  keep  up  a  shadowy  Persecution,  in  the  Shouts 
and  Revels  of  the  Mob. 

Of  this  contrivance,  and  of  the  success  of  this  con 
trivance,  he  has  given  us  many  curious  examples  in 
his  Journals.  Abundantly  sufficient  to  evince,  that 
though  he  who  persecutes,  breaks  the  Peace,  yet  as 
he  is  but  the  tool  and  Instrument  of  him  who  invites 
and  provokes  persecution  the  crime  at  length  comes 
home  to  him  who  set  the  Rioter  on 'work. 


CHAP.    X. 
T II  E  'next  mark  of  celestial  Wisdom  is,  its  being 

GENTLE,  AND  EASY  TO  BE  INTREATED.   That  is, 

neither  a  rigid  reprover  of  the  indifferent  manners  of 
others,  nor  obstinately  tenacious  of  its  own  :  but,  as 
far  as  Truth  and  Honesty  will  permit,  compliant  and 
even  obsequious  to  all  men.  The  great  Apostle  of 
the  Gentiles  fully  approves  his  pretensions  to  this 


Chap.  X.]  OF    GRACE.  3(;7 

Wisdom,  in  the  account  he  gives  of  his  conduct,  /// 
becoming  ail  things  to  all  Men,  that  he  wight  gain 
some*.  For  the  truth  ofuhich,  he  appeals  to  those 
who  were  host  acquainted  with  his  lite  and  conversa 
tion.  But  amongst  our  modern  Apostles  the  Scene  is 
shitted.  We  iind  them  severe  condemners  of  those 
innocent  manners  of  their  fellow-citizens,  uhich  they 
themselves  have  abstained  from,  on  pretence  of  their 
being  less  profitable  and  edifying,  or,  perhaps,  ob 
structive  of  that  perfection  which  they  pretend  to  aim 
at.  Nor  are  they  less  severe  exactors  of  conformity 
to  their  own  observances. 

They  tell  us  what  we  are  to  think  of  them,  in   the 
very  appellation  they  assume.     For  METHODISM  (as 
we  have  said)  implies  a  set  of  manners,  marked  out  by 
the  rule  and  compass ;   and,  w  hen   made  a   name  of 
distinction,  it  declares  those  manners  are  to  he  reli 
giously  and  invariably  observed,  as   the  sacred  badge* 
of  the  Brotherhood.    Hence  Air.  J.  Wesley  in  a  letter 
to  the  Church  of  God  at  Herrnhuth  in  i  Tpper  Lusatta, 
having   reproved   them  for  teaching,  "  that  it  does 
"  imply  Liberty  to  conform  to  the  world,   by  talking 
6  on  useless,  if  not  trifling  subjects,  and  by  joining  in 
'  worldly  diversions,  in  order  to   do  goodl"  they  jus 
tify  themselves  by  saying,  "  We  believe  it  much  better 
*  to  discourse  out  of  the  newspapers,  th.in  to  chatter 
"  about  holy  things   to   no  purpose."     To  which   he 
replies,  "  Perhaps  so.     But  what  is  this  to  the  point'- 
"  I  believe  both  one  and  the  other  to  be  useless,  and 
"  therefore    A\    ABOAUXATIOX    TO    THE   LORD-)." 
Nay,  he  pushed  this  matter  so  tar,  as   to  come  to  :t 
solemn  resolution,  NKVKR  TO  LALCJH  :  and,  toward 
himself  against  the  approaches  of  this  pultry  iniinnity, 

*   i  Cor.  ix.  '22. 

t  Journ.  froiu  Nov.  i,   1709,  to  Sept.  3,  1741,  p.  1,3. 


THE    DOCTRINE  ok  IE 

nectr  to  freak  a  tittfe  of  vorldiy  :'  _  •  A  IK!  cer- 
toiolv,  he  who  carries  his  dissockibility  to  this  extreme, 
is  in"  no  danger  of  bcv  _  «lflr  ixv  .  He 

iras  now  fit  company  onry  fur  the  I  whom. 

as  we  have  seen,  he  had  a  great  deal  to  tru 
indeed.  not  for  him  neither,  till  the  more  sociable 
Fiend  had  a  little  relaxed  his  muscles  :  for  the  tii>t 
trick  Satan  plavcd  him.  ar^r  they  pvw  acquainted, 
-MS,  as  he  himself  toils  us  to  make  him  burst  out 
k*0  *n  mufodcratc  fit  of  Laughter  *.  But  he  was 
ready  i*  tear  hhaself  to  piece*  for  iiis  frailty. 

OnrApost!  .LEX  tss  may,  by  this  time,  be 

.it     Hut  he  saves  us  the  trouble.    AVe 
leam  it  foUy  ii.  C  PMHt'n^s  of  his  Adver 

saries.  He  met  with  one  of  the^e  ii)  a  \ioknit  storai 
at  Sea.  Yet  the  common  danyr  of  tins  dreadfid 
hour  conM  not  abate  the  more  violent  tempest  in  his 
annd  _  «  For  who  should  be  thcix  lagi  he)  but  the 
"  taraoos  Mr.  Gr  -  of  Carnarvonshire.  A  clumip, 
44  oven;rown,  barchaced  man  ;  v  hose  counien:ince  I 
«  could  only  compare  to  that  (wh:-  in  Drury- 

"  Lane,  thirty  years  aso  '  of  oue  of  ti^e  Rqfam  in 
"  Macbeth    .-  -  1  walked  over  to  Eg- 

•*  Imm.  where  Mr.  -  I   one  of  the  most 

miserable  sermons  I  ever  Ircard  :  -  >  full  of 

•  dull,  senseless,  improbable  lies  of  those  he  coin- 
"  phmentv  :ltleofi  —  *:  At 

we  were  saluted,  as  usual  with  a  Huzza. 
"  and  a  few  stones  cr  pieces  of  dirt  :'"  Yet  fur  want 
of  a  better,  he  has  dignified  even  this  with  the  name 
of  a  P^ccut'wn.  "  The  Persecution  k  ^  he"x 

tt  was  owing  in  great  measure   to  the  in 


*  See  p.  3-24  of  this  Disco- 

«t  Joont.  from  July  20,  1740,  to  Oct.  30,  1751,  p.  51. 

:  j-wn.irwaSept-s, 

"  labours 


Ciap.  X.]  OF    GR 

labours  of  Mr.  /  nd  Mr.  Simmons;  ( 

f:  ™f-:i  -*d  ia  everlasting  remembrance 

c;  for  their  unwearied  endeavours  to  destroy  Heresy. 

:  mea  pagina  pc 

"  ^s      s  exiinet  a?vo  *." 

1 1  or-    V;  leils  ost  without  ..  that  it  is  his  : 

purpose-,  to  gibbet  up  of  these  his  i 

PC  ^ing  Infamy:    while,    by  the 

most  unregenerate  ma  ice  in  the  worid,  he  dips  his 
curves  in  the  gaii  of  irosy ;  and,  that  they  may  strike 
the  deeper,  fletches  them  with  a  profane  classical 
Parody. 

Yet  :jaa  who  savr. — -;  God  forbid  that 

"  I  should  RAIL,  at  a  Turk,  In£del,  or  I  I 

"  would  point  out  their  Errors,  aiid  I  io  the. 

"  Spiiur  OF  M  ^PIEJT  -. 

nirn,  tiat  he  bk  A  for  his  goodc 

in  di          _  tations  to  fall  oa  this  fide-  which, 

though  it  may  be  called  his  blind  ±1^  (as  he  alw 
win  injuries  •  soin^tiaies,  indeed,  to  take  the 

bett  ije  assures  L5.  is  iiot  his  ircak  side 

A  at  the  goodness  of  God. 
•  e  most  assaulted  on  the  irtak  side  of  thdt- 
me   it  ..   oUjcnrke.      If  I 

jgth  at  ail,  JT  is  ix  FORG.VIXG  i.v- 
*;  J  -  very  side  ana   I  a-saulted 

"  more  :r«_qnentjy  tiiin  any  other  J."    By  which,  w 
uncommon  •  .he  would  insinuate,  that  though 

his  per.  abound,    yet  i.  _o*Mew,  in: 

Spirit  (f  meekness,  does  muca  m-jre  abound. 

?aol  an  J  St.  J  nines  may  be  reconciied.     fiat 

•  Joan».  -      -.  N     .  ]-,   17^6,  p.  2^ 

f  Joam.  fror  ^,  to  Sep:  -, 

:       trra.  frrat  Jmty  *>,  175*,  to  Oct.  ««,  1754,  p.  ,9. 

VOL.  VLI.  B  B 


370  T  H  E    I)  OC  T II I X  E         [Book  IT. 

he  is  a  bold  man  who  will  undertake  to  reconcile  St. 
Paul  and  Mr.  Wesley.  The  Reader,  perhaps,  will 
he  hetter  employed  in  turning  his  attention  upon  an 
cient  and  modern  SAINTSHIP,  at  large:  where,  in  one 
general  view,  he  will  sec  God's  grace  in  the  First, 
and,  in  the  Second,  Mans  nature  severally  asserting 
their  Rights  throughout  the  whole  progress.  The  ge 
nial  Spirit  of  God  could  breathe  nothing  but  the  balm 
of  gentleness  ami  ea.se.  The  pestilent  heat  of  Fanati 
cism  raises  an  inflammation  and  a  tumour  in  the  mind, 
whose  Symptoms  are  an  obdurate  rigour,  and  impa 
tience  under  the  probe.  The  Heaven-struck  Heart  is 
affected  like  the  purer  metals,  which  easily  soften,  and 
ryn  speedily  at  the  touch  of  the  etherial  Hay.  But 
the  Fanatic  Spirit,  self-heated,  by  its  own  fiery  nature, 
retains  the  property  of  its  congenial  earth,  which  grows 
harder  and  more  intractable  as  it  burns. 


CHAP.  xi. 

TO  proceed.  St.  James,  in  his  account  of  celestial 
Wisdom  >  advances  from  grace  to  grace.  It  is  peace- 
rtble:  this  is  its  lowest  quality.  It  \sGentle,  and  easy 
lu  be  int  rented:  this  is  a  further  advance  in  its  Cha 
racter.  The  first  only  implies  the  not  giving  umbrage 
fir  otiencc  to  our  Brother;  but  the  second  declares  a 
readiness  to  consult  his  pleasure  and  convenience. 
The  Apostle's  next  recommendation  of  this  Wisdom 
rises  siill  higher:  it  is,  he.  says,  FULL  OF  MKKCY 
AX  10  <"jooi)  FT: r ITS.  It  would  have  been  a  poor  ac 
count  of  the  JHsiJom  from  above,  that  it  amounted 
only  to  an  obsequious  ease  and  gertflzness  of  Manners : 
a  disposition  of  heart  little  more  than  the  shadow  or 

out- 


Chap.  XI.]  OF   GRACE-  371 

outline  of  Benevolence,  that  harmony  of  the  affections, 
which  the  Christian  Faith  calls  CHARITY;  and  which 
the  Apnstle,  by  a  beautiful  periphrasis,  terms,  the 
be  iinj  lull  <>f  mercy  (Old  food  fruits* 

Lc i  us  enquire  then  into  the   MERCY  and  GOOD 
FRUITS    of    modern    Saintship.     The   mercy   of   the 
Sufferer  is  jorg'rcencss ;  the  mercy  of  the  Jnflicter  is 
forbearance. 

Oi  Air.  Wesley's  forgiveness  under  sufferings,  we 
have  seen  many  examples  in  the  Language  he  be 
stows  on  his  Opposcrs;  who  pass  with  him  under  no 
other  title  than  that  of  the  Devil's  Servants  and  the 
DeviCs  Children:  of  his  forbearance,  when  completely 
armed  with  the  Vengeance  of  Heaven,  we  have  seen 
many  more,  in  his  dispatching  the  Principal  of  these 
Children  of  the  Devil,  without  mercy,  to  their  Father. 
For  one  sure  mark  of  the  hypochondriac  spirit  under  a 
Fanatic  ferment,  is  the  readiness  to  dispense,  and  the 
rashness  to  fling  about,  the  exterminating  Judgments 
of  God  :  and  when  an  Enthusiast  calls  down  fire  from 
Heaven,  the  least  of  his  concert!  is7  his  being  heard. 
So  that  every  disaster,  befallen  his  Opposers,  is  con 
sidered  by  him  as  God's  ozcmm*  the  Cause,  and  he 
would  esteem  it  ingratitude  to  hib  Master  to  give  it 
any  other  name  UUIL  that  of  a  JUDGMENT;  just  as 
Witches,  when  a  misuiief  happens  to  those  whom  they 
have  often  cursed,  ascribe  it  to  the  Avenger  of  their, 
quarrels,  their  trusty  Coadjutor  the  Devil.  For  under 
the  agitations  of  wrath  and  revenge,  titie  fruits  of  this 
Spirit  are  much  the  suvne,  whetlxjr  Heaven  or  Hell 
be  called* to  their  assistance.  Do  I  wrong  these  Men  ? 
See  what  has  been  said  above  of  this  matter  * :  and 
if  that  does  not  suffice,  turn  again  to  Mr.  J.  Wesley's 
Journals.  "  Wednesday  15.  I  \?ent  to  Bedlam  at 

*  Pp-  337—339- 

ii  u  2  "  the 


372  THE    DOCTRINE       [Book  IT. 

'*  the  repeated  request  of  Mr.  S.  who  Lad  been  con- 
:c  fined  there  above  two  years.  This  was  the  Person^ 
"  who,  while  lie  was  Sjteaki&g  against  my  Brother 
"  and  uie,  to  the  Society  at  Kingswood,  was  in  a 
''  moment  struck  nrchig  wind.  But,  it  seems,  God  is  at 
"  Icjig'/h  intrc-itcd  for  him,  am?  lias  restored  hku  to  a 

"  sound   mind  *."     Again,   "  One  J n-  II n, 

"  a  weaver- — zealous  for  the  Church,  and  against  Dis- 
"  senters  of  every  denomination  —  He  laboured  much 
lt  to  convince  his  acquaintance  that  the  strange  Jit ^ 
^  into  u'hieli  people  at  the  Societies  fell,  was  a  dclu- 
u  sion  of  the  Devil.  We  were  going  home  when  one 

;t  met  us  in  the  street,  and  informed  us,  That  J n 

"  II n  was  fallen  rav'nig  mud. — Between  one  and 

a  two,  I  came  in  and  found  him  on  the  floor,  the 
"  room  being  full  o£  ]xx>ple,.  whom  his  wife  would 
*•*  have  kept  out,  but  lie  cried  aloud,  No,  let  the 
^  world  see  theg;Vtf  Judgment  of  God.,  Two  or  three 
l>  men  were  holding  him  as  well  as  they  ecu  hi.  He 
4>  immediately  iked  his  eyes  upon  me,  and  stretching 
u  out  iiis  hands,  cried,  Oh!  this  is  he  who,  I  said, 
"  was  a  deceiver  of  the  People.  But  Gcd  has 
u  overtaken-  -me '('.'" — An<l  agaiiK  — "  I  was  inlbrurjd 
'u  of  nn  crip/lit  providence.  A  poor  wretch  who  was 
'•  i:pre  tlu;  iast  week,  cursing,  blaspheming,  and  la- 
*  bousing  with  all  his  might  to  hinder  the  icurd  of 
"  Gvd,  -iiad  afterwards  boasted  to  mai>y,  that  he  would 
•'  come  -a^ain  on  Sunday,  and  no  man  should  stop 
r*'c  his  mouth  then.  But  on  Friday  God  Urid  hix  hand 
'*'  ui)on  him,  and  on  Sunday  he  WHS  buried;!;.  —  I  saw 
'•  a  poor  man,  ( (oNce  joined  with  z/,v)  \\\\(*  waiited 
"  rk)thing  in  this  world,  but  the  peace  the  world 

':'-   .Tourn.  iVom  Oct.  -27,   1743,  to  Nov.  17,  1746,   p.  3;). 
'  ';•  .!our;i.  iVonrAug  1-2,  1738,  to  Nov.  i,    1739,  j>.  44. 
•J  Jo-Jin.  IVom  Nov.  i,   1739,  to  -Sept..  3,  1741,  pp.  59,  <*>• 

if  pan  not 


Chap.  XI.]  OF    Gtt  ACF,  373 

"  cannot  give.  A  day  or  two  before,  lit  handed  him- 
"  ,9f//i  but  was  tilt  down  before  be  was  dead.  Jle 
"  has  been  crying  out  ever  since,  GW  ;W/  A;/^  /,.<•'/// 
"  because  lie  had  left  the  Children  of  Cud*:'  Hut 
he  is  inexorable  to  all  who  apostatize—"  I  buried 
:"  the  body  of  Lucy  Godslmll — alter  pressing  toward 
"  the  mark  for  more  than  two  years— She  became 
"  u'eary  ami  faint — f  put  her  out  of  the  barn!—  God 
"  blessed  this  to  her  soul." — But  how? — u  She  fell 
46  down  on  her  knees,  and  delivered  up  her  soul  and 
"  body  into  the  bands  of  God.  In  the  instant,  the 
46  use  of  all  her  limbs  was  taken  away,  and  she  was 
"  in  a  burning  fever.— She  cried  out  on  Satan— was 
"  in  durknew— was  in  light — closed  her  eyes  and 
"  died  I-"-—"  I  was  pressed  to  visit  Nicholas  Palmer,* 
*'  one  who  had  separated  from  us,  mid  behaved  with 
"  a  great  bit  tenter,  till  Cod  laid  his  hand  upon  him. 
"  lie  had  sent  for  me  several  times,  saving  he  could 
"  not  die  in  peace  till  he  had  seen  me.  —  We  wrestled 
"  with  God  in  his  behalf — His  soul  was  comforted; 
"  and  a  lew  hours  after  quietly  fell  asleep  ;(;." 

Their  <;OOD  FRUITS  come  next  to  be  considered. 
Mr.  J.  Wesley's  idea  of  true  Religion  doth  not  promise 
much.  He  saith,  "  It  doth  not  consist  in  any  or  all 
*'  these  three  things,  the  living  harmless — using  the 
"  wcaus  of  Grace — and  doing  much  good.  A  man, 
'f  he  says,  may  do  all  this,  and  yet  have  no  true  Jte/i- 
"  gion  a  I  all  §/' 

Yet  St.  JA^IFS  talks  another  language.  Pure 
Religion  (and,  I  suppose, /W/Y?  and  true  difier  only  in 
sound)  and  andtjd-ed  before  God  and  the  Father,  in 

*  Journ.  from  Oct.  ^7,   1743,  to  Nov.  17,   1746,   p.  91. 
|  Journ.  from  Sept.  3,   1741,  to  Oct.  '27,   1/43,  i>.  71. 
;  ll>id.  p.  5. 
§  Jouru.  iVom  Nov.  I,  1739,  to  Sept.  3,   1741,  p.  n,  1-2. 

J3  B  3  this, 


374  THE    DOCTRINE        [Book  II. 

this,  to  visit  the  fatherless  and  widows  hi  their  affliction, 

and  to  keep  himself  unspotted  from  the  World*. 

Now,  what  is  visiting  the  fatherless  and  widows, 
but  the  doing  -much  good?  And  what  is  keeping  ones 
self  unspotted  from  the  world,  but  using  the  means  of 
Grace?  In  what  a  fearful  taking,  then,  must  Mr. 
Wesley's  Zealots  be,  who,  misled  by  the  Bible,  have 
so  long  mistaken  true  Religion  ?  The  leabt  it  will  do 
is  to  drive  them  to  despair.  But  this  is  the  very  state 
in  which  their  Master  delights  to  take  them  up.  And 
his  assurance,  that  true  Religion  consists  in  God*s 
dwelling  and  reigning  in  the  Soul  •)*,  soon  makes  way 
fora  happier  madness  :  the  Jaws  of  Hell  begin  to 
close,  the  Gates  of  Heaven  to  open. — But*  what  the 
over-laboured  imagination  suffered,  during  the  course 
of  this  operation,  requires  the  hand  of  a  Master  to  de 
scribe.  I  shall  give  it  therefore  in  Mr.  J.  Wesley's  own 
words  :  and  as  these  his  spiritual  cures  (which  he 
reports  with  the  exactness  of  an  Hippocrates  or  a 
Sytlenhiim)  are  all  the  GOOD  FRUITS  he  pretends  to, 
he  will  not  be  displeased  to  have  a  few  of  the  choicest 
of  them  set  in  a  fair  light. 

The  condition  of  his  audience,  on  his  first  operation 
upon  them,  is  thus  graphically  described—"  I  preached 
"  in  an  open  place,  two  or  three  miles  from  Newcastle, 
"  The  wind  uas  high  and  extremely  sharp:  but  I  saw 
•'  none  go  away  till  I  went.  Yet  I  observed  none 
"  seemed  to  be  much  convinced;  only  STUXN'D,  AS 
•*  IF  CUT  IN  THE  HEAD  J."  This  was  in  order. 
They  were  first  to  l>e  stunned ;  the  Watchman,  Rea^ 
son,  was  to  be  laid  asleep  before  he  could  set  fire  to 
their  Imaginations.  But  he  brings  them  to  their  senses 
with  a  vengeance,  the  vengeance  of  the  Devil,  "  I 

*  James  i.  27.  f  P.  11.  utsup. 

\  Jpuii}.  from  Sept  3,  1741,  to  Get,  a/,  1743,  p.  8-2. 

«  felt 


Chap,  XL]  OF    GRACE.  37.5 

"  felt  the  FIRE  or  HELL  already  kindled  in  my  breast 
"  (says  one),  and  all  my  body  was  in  as   inncli  pain 
"  as  if  I  had  been  in  a  burning  iiery  furnace  *." —  "  I 
"  was  interrupted  (says  he)  by  the  cries  of  one  who 
"  was  pricked  at  the  heart:'    One  of  those,  I  suppose, 
who  had  before  been  cut  in  the  he, id:   and   having 
now  got  possession  both  of  the  head  and  heart,  the 
game  begins — "  Another  person  dropped   down —  a 
"  little  boy  near  him  was  seized  in  the  same  manner. 
"  A  young  man  who  stood  behind  fixed  his  eyes  on  him, 
"  and  sunk  down   himself  as  one  dead.     But  soon 
"  began  to  roar  out  and  beat  himself  on  the  ground, 
"  so  that  six  men   could  scarcely  hold  him. — Mean- 
"  while  many  others  began  to  cry  out  to  the  Saviour 
u  of  all,  that  he  would  come  and  help  them,  insomuch 
"  that  all  the  house,  and  indeed  all  the  strcst  for  some 
"  space,  was  in  an  uproar. — I  was  called  after  supper 
"  to  one,  who,  feeling  in  herself  such  a  Conviction  as 
"  she  had  never  known  before,  had  run  out  of  the 
"  Society  in  all  haste,  that  .vAe  wight  not  avpow  her- 
"  self.     But  the  hand  of  God  followed  her  still •]-,''  &c. 
This  fear  of  c.rposiug  herself,  Mr.  J.  Wesley,  we  see, 
takes  much  amiss.    He 'speaks  with  some  resentment, 
t>ut  more  contempt,   of  her  delicacy.     Yet  it  seems 
hard  that  he  would  not  suffer  the  young  Woman  to 
understand  the  nature  of  her  o«'H  feelings,  and  conse 
quently  to  be  the  best  judge  of  the  danger  she  was  in, 
o\' ej'lwhi"  //<T.W//:—  ^  Forty  or  Fifty  of  those  who 
u  were  scekins  sulvatioi*,   desired  leave  to  spend  the 
"  night  together  iia  the  society  room.      Before  ten,   I 
••"  left  them,  and  Jaid  down/"— For  our  Engineer  had 
'•so  ami>ly  provided  them  with  combustibles,  and  so 
iitly  laid  his  train,  that  he  knew  they  would  take  fire 

*  Journ.  from  Sept-  3,  1741,  to  Oct.  27,  1743,   p-  $3- 

|   Juurn.  fryiii  .>£  !••«»  W*?  to  Nov.  i,  1739,  pp.  50^  5A- 

ji  j*  4  troii) 


376  THE    DOCTRINE          [Book  II. 

from  their  own  collisions.    He  was  not  disappointed — - 

"  Between  two   and    three  in  the    morning  he   was 

"  awaked,  and  desired  to  come  down  stairs.     1  imrne- 

"  diately  (says  he)  heard  such  a  confused  noise,  as  if 

"  a  number  of  men  were  all   putting  to  the  Sword. 

"  It  increased,  when  I  came  into  the  room,  and  began 

"  to  [>ray  *,"  'Sec. — °"  Thence  I  went  to  a  poor  woman 

"  who  had  been  long  in  despair.     I  was  glad  to  meet 

*'  with  Mrs.  R.  there;  the  person  mentioned  in  Mr. 

"  Whitefield's  Journal,  w'io  alter  three  yem's  madness 

"  (so  CALLED)  was  so  deeply  convinced  of  Sin  jV  &c. 

i — "  Another  of  Dr.  Monro's  patients  came  to  desire 

"  my  advice;   I  found  no  reason  to   believe  she   had 

"  been  otherwise  mcidtlmn  every  one  is,  who  is  deeply 

"  convinced  of  Sin  J."' — ""A  middle-aged  woman  de- 

"  sired  me  to  return  thanks  for  her  to  God ;  who,  as 

"  many  witnesses  then  present,  testified,  was,  a  day  or 

"  two  before,  really  distracted,  and,  as  such,  tied  down 

"  in  her  bed.     But  upon  prayer  made  for  her,  she  was 

"  instantly  relieved,   and  restored  to  a  sound  mind§." 

— "  /  could  not  but  be,  under  some  concern  with  regard 

"  to  one  or   two  persons,  who  were  tormented   in  an 

•e  unaccountable   manner,  and  seemed  to   be  indeed 

"  Lunatics,  as  well  as  sore  vexed  j|."    Here,  for  the 

first  time,  Humanity  seems  to  have  recovered  a  little  of 

its  rights,  amidst  these  scenes  of  horror.    Mr.  J.  WES- 

J.EY  himself  confesses,  he  could  not  but  be  under  some 

concern.     But  invigorated  by  the  new  Man,  he  soon 

shakes  off  the  human  pity  of  the  old,  and  makes  a  joke 

even  of  the  very  Lunacy,  he  had  pretended  to  lament, 

"  Two  or  three  who  were  at  the  Devanden  (a  high 

"  hill  two  or  three  miles  from  Chepstow)   are  gone 

f  .Jmirn.  from  Nov.  i,  1739,  to  Sept.  3,  1741,  pp.  51,  52. 
f  Jcurn.  from  Aug.  1-2,   1738,  to  Nov.  i,  1/39,  p-  8- 
|  Ibid.  p.  83.  §  Ibid.  p.  4.  ||  Ibid-  p.  88. 

"  quite 


Chap.  XL]  O  F    G  R  A  C  E.  377 

tk  quite  distracted,  i.  c.  they  mourn  and  refuse  to  be 
"  comforted  till  they  have  Redemption  *,"  &c. — "  I 
"  desired  one  who  had  s-'cn  ulllictlon  herself  to  go  ami 

ic  visit  Mrs.  G- in.  Bed/am  (put  there  by  her  hus- 

"  band  as  a  mad  woman),  where  it  pleased  God 
"  greatly  to  knit  their  hearts  together,  and  with  his 
"  comforts  to  refresh  their  souls  f ." — "  Amongst  the 
"  hearers  was  one,  who  some  time  before  had  been 
"  deeply  convinced  of  her  ungodliness,  insomuch  that 
"  she  cried  out  day  and  night,  Lord,  save,  or  I  perish! 
"  All  the  neighbours  agreeing  th  >t  she  was  stark  mud, 
"  her  husband  put  her  into  a  Physician's  hands,  who 
"  blooded  her  largely,  and  laid  on  several  blisters. 
"  But  all  this  proving  without  success,  she  was  in  a 
.*•'  shon,  time  judged  to  be  incurable.  When  Airs. 
"  Johnson  came,  she  soon  saw  the  nature  of  the  dis- 
"  ease,  having  herself  gone  through  the  same.  She 
"  ordered  ail  the  medicines  to  be  thrown  away,  and 
"  exhorted  the  Patient  to  look  unto  Jcsu.f  'j."  - 

And  with  this  spiritual  madness  he  is  so  enamoured, 
that  he  calls  it,  when  at  its  height,  A  GLOIUOUS  TIME, 
"  I  preached  at  \Veavers  Hall.  IT  WAS  A  GLOiirous 
"TIME.  Several  dropped  to  the  ground,  as  if  struck 
<f  with  lightning  §,"  &c.  &c.  And  where  this  is  want 
ing,  though  every  other  thing  be  to  his  wish,  he  is  so 
dissatisfied,  that  it  is  as  much  as  ever  his  submission  tQ 
the  divine  Will  can  obtain  of  him,  to  let  Cod  do  an 
aecwetli  him  good. — "  I  saw  none  of  that  triumph  of 
"  Faith,  which  has  been  so  COMMON  in  other  places. 
"  But  the  Believers  go  on  calm  and  steady. — LET  GOD 

"  DO  AS  SEEAIETII   HIM  GOOD  ||." 

*  Journ.  from  Aug.  12,  1738,  to  Nov.  i,  1739,  p.  90. 
f  Journ.  from  Nov.  i,  1739,  to  Sept.  3,  1741,  p.  54. 
J  Journ.  from  £erit-  ;j.  1741,  to  Ort.  27,   1743,  p.  53. 
§  Ibid.  p.  27.  ||  Ibid-  p.  78, 

But 


37$  THE    DOCTRINE          [Book  1 1. 

But  though  Mr.  J.  Wesley  does  so  ably,  in  this  new 
Trade  of  turning  fools  Into  mad-men,  yet  his  Craft's- 
master  is  eertainly  one  Mr.  Wh — y,  of  \vhoin  Mr. 
Wesley  tells  this  extraordinary  tale.  **  A  poor  woman 
**  gave  an  account  of  what  I  think  ought  never  to  be 
"  forgotten."  Truly,  I  think  so  too — "  It  was  four 
"  years,  she  said,  since  her  Son,  Peter  Shaw,  then 
"  nineteen  or  twenty  years  old,  by  hearing  a  Sermon, 
"  of  Mr.  Wh — y,  fell  into  great  uneasiness.  She 
<l  thought  he  was  ill,  and  would  have  sent  for  a  Phy- 
*'  sician.  But  he  said,  No,  no,  send  for  Mr.  Wh — y. 
*c  He  -was  sent  for,  and  came ;  and,  after  asking  a  few 
**  questions,  told  her,  The  Boy  is  mad,  get  a  Coach 

*c  and  carry  him  to  Dr.  M ,  use  my  name,  I  have 

"sent  several  such  to  him  *." — Who  this  Mr.  Wh — y 
is,  or  what  he  is,  I  know  not.  But,  ^ve  see,  he  sends 
his  People  to  Monro,  with  the  same  unconcern  in 
search  of  lost  brains,  that  one  would  enquire  of  Sir 
J.  Fielding  for  a  lost  portmanteau. 

Such  are  the  exploits  which  Mr.  J.  Wesley  calls,  in 
the  place  last  quoted,  BIJ:SSIXGS  FROM  (ion;  and 
which  therefore  we  may  well  call  the  GOOD  FRUITS 
of  his  Ministry;  those  by  which  St.  James  directs  us 
to  judue  of  his  Mission.  For  what  the  Apostle  calls 
good  fruits ,  namelv,  doing  much  good.  Mr.  J.  Wcslev 

v"?  «  /  »>   '  C>  C>  '  ti 

plainly  tells  us,  belong  not  to  true  Religion:  What 
belongs  not  to  true  Religion,  ho  rightly  deems  super- 
iluous  :  And  whatever  is  superfluous,  he  makes  solemn 
resolutions  to  avoid  f . 

*  Journ.  from  Nov.  i,  1759,    to  Sept.  3,  1741,    p.  5<>. 
•f  Journ  from  Feb-  i,  1737-8,   tc  hU  return  from 

P-  J3-   ' 


Chap. XII.]  OP    GRACE.  379 


CHAP.    XII. 

HITHERTO  the  Marks  delivered  by  St.  James, 
to  judge  of  a  pretended  Missionary  from  Heaven,  con 
sider  him  as  urging  his  pretensions  fairly  and  with  good 
faith ;  though  possibly  in  a  fanatic  or  enthusiastic  way : 
But  what  follows — WITHOUT  PARTIALITY  AND  WITH 
OUT  HYPOCRISY — represents  the  pretender  to  such  a 
character  as  capable  of  acting  in  a  mask,  and  using 
the  mere  worldly  arts  of  fraud  and  deceit.  And  this 
supposition  is  made  with  admirable  judgment  and 
knowledge  of  human  Nature. 

EXTIIUSIASM,  so  indispensable  a  requisite  in  the 
successful  leading  of  a  Sect,  must  always  be  accom 
panied  with  craft  and  knavery.  There  is  ti  necessity 
for  this  odd  combination;  and  the  thing  itself,  as 
strange  as  it  may  seem,  is  very  naturally  to  be  ac 
counted  for. 

A  nicer  cool -headed  Projector,  without  any  tincture 
of  innate  enthusiasm,  can  never  succeed  in  his  Designs, 
because  such  a  one  can  never  exhibit  those  surprising 
freaks,  which  a  heated  imagination,  working  on  a  dis- 
ordered,  though,  for  this  purpose:,  Jitly  framed  temper 
of  body,  so  speciously  produces.  For  the  spirits  of  the 
People,  who  are  to  be  taken  in,  can  never  be  allured, 
but  by  raising  their  udminitioii,  and  keeping  up  their 
confidence  in  an  inspired  Leader,  besides,  new  doc 
trines  and  new  ideas  are  never  so  readily  received  as 
when  the  Teacher  of  them  is  in  earnest,  and  believes 
Himseff:  lor  then  there  is  something  so  natural  in  his 
conduct  as  easily  to  conciliate  belief;  there  is  some 
thing  so  alluring,  that  it  acts  even  like  an  Incantation. 

On  the  other  hand,  a  mere  Enthusiast,  who,  by 

urtue 


v     «2     ^a 

*<>1A 


38o  THE    DOCTRINE         [Book  II. 

virtue  of  this  faculty,  hath  gone  so  far  in  his  purpose 
as  to  raise  the  admiration,  and  to  captivate  the  spirits, 
of  the  People,  must  here  begin  to  fail,  if  lie  be  with 
out  the  other  quality,  sectarian  Craft :  For,  \\\s  fana 
ticism  not  being  under  the  controul  of  his  judgment, 
he  will  want  the  proper  dexterity  to  apply  the  different 
views,  tempers,  and  pursuits  of  the  People,  now  in 
flamed  and  ready  to  become  his  Instruments,  to  the 
advancement  of  his  Projects. 

Ikit  when  these  two  talents  of  Fraud  mid  Fanaticism 
unite  to  furnish  out  the  Leader  of  a  Sect,  great  will 
be  the  success  of  his  undertakings.  And  when  such  a 
one  feels  the  strength  of  this  union,  it  is  no  wonder  he 
should  be  ready  to  cry  out  with  Mr.  J.  Wesley,  Give 
me  whereon  to  stand,  and  I  will  shake  the  whole  earth*. 
For  now  the  sallies  of  his  Enthusiasm  will  be  so  cor 
rected  by  his  Cunning,  as  to  strengthen  and  confirm 
his  supernatural  pretences;  and  the  cold  and  slow  ad 
vances  of  a  too  cautious  policy  will  be  wanned  and 
pushed  forward  by  the  force  of  his  Fanaticism.  His 
crqfl  will  enable  him  to  elude  the  enquiries  and  objec 
tions  of  the  more  Rational ;  and  his  Visions  will  irre 
coverably  subdue  all  the  warmer  Noddles.  In  a  word, 
they  will  mutually  support  and  strengthen  each  other's 
force,  and  cover  and  repair  each  other's  defects,  St. 
Jerom  seems  to  have  had  a  true  idea  of  this  extraor- 
d'mai'y  combination,  Avhen  he  said,  "  Nullus  potest 
"  Hacresin  struere,  nisi  qui  ARDEXTIS  INGENII  est, 
"  et  habet  DON  A  NATI,R.K ')'."  Which  may  be  thus 
paraphrased — No  Heretic  will  ever  be  able  to  raise  a 
Sect,  bat  fa,  in  whose  constitution  Nature  has  enabled 
Frauu  and  Fanaticism  to  act  in  concert. 

Several  things  concur  to  facilitate  this  happy  con- 

*  See   p.  329  of  this  Discourse- 
.•t  bee  Div-  Leg.   Hook  111.  §  6. 

junction. 


Chap.  XII.]  OF    GRACE.  381 

junction.  An  Enthusiast  considers  himself  as  an  In 
strument  employed  by  Providence  to  attain  some  great 
End,  for  the  sake  of  which  he  was  sent  out.  This 
makes  him  diligent  in  his  work ;  impatient  under  any 
lett  or  obstruction ;  and  attentive  to  every  method  for 
removing  it.  Persuaded  of  the  necessity  of  the  End, 
and  of  the  divine  Commission  intrusted  to  the  Instru 
ment,  he  begins  to  fancy  that  such  a  one,  for  the  ob 
taining  so  great  a  purpose,  is  dispensed  with,  m  break 
ing  nay  is  authorized  to  break,  the  common  Laws  of 
Morality;  which,  in  the  cant  of  those  times,  when 
Fanaticism  had  its  full  play,  was  called  the  BEIXJJ 
ABOVE  ORDINANCES.  In  the  first  application  of  these 
means,  the  People  are  the  Dupes  of  their  Leader : 
But  the  success  being  frequently  far  beyond  even  his 
own  conception,  he  becomes,  in  his  turn,  the  Dupe  of 
himself;  and  begins  in  good  earnest  to  believe  that  the 
trick  which  he  played  them,  was  indeed -not  of  his  own 
contrivance,  hut  the  inspired  instigation  of  Heaven  *. 
This  \\iil  explain  an  obscure  passage  of  Tacitus,  where? 
speaking  of  this  sort  of  Character,  in  his  oracular  way, 
he  says,  FI \GUXT  SIMUL  CIIEDUXTQUE.  -Let  me 
add,  that  this  seems  to  have  been  much  the.  case  of 
OLIVER  CROMWELL,  from  his  first  mounting  into  the 
Saddle  and  the  Pulpit,  to  his  last  reveries  on  his 
death-bed  f . 

Again, 

*  That  great  observer  of  Nature^  CERVANTES,  having  made 
Simcho  i^to  save  himself  from  the  vexation  of  a  sleeveless  errand) 
palm  upon  his  Master  a  supposititious  Dulciiaea  ;  Whcp  the  Squire 
comes  to  relate  this  adventure  to  the  Duchess,  she  extols  his 
ingenuity  so  hi'jjMv.  tl  at  fie  bfvjins  to  suspect  himself  to  he  trick'  -I 
into  his  own  c«utriv:in re  ;  and  that  the  Inchanters  had  presented 
hint  with  a  true  Dulcineu  in  masque;  :de,  when  he  thought  he  was 
imposing  ;iful.-;f  one  iurcf.iv  ed  on  his  Master. 

t  Thurloc  tells  ITS,  that  the  Protector,  on  his  death-led, .fore 
told  bis  iccovery.  u:  mi  inspiration  from  Hcavtu,  Had  it  proved 

true, 


332  THE    DOCTRINE        [Book  II. 

Again,  Enthusiasm  is  a  kind  of  ebullition  or  critical 
ferment  of  the  mind,  which  a  vigorous  nature  some 
times  works  through,  and  by  slow  decrees  is  able  to 
surmount.  Hence  the  most  successful  Impostors,  who 
have  set  out  in  all  the  blaze  of  Fanaticism,  have  com 
pleted  their  Schemes  amidst  the  cool  depths  and 
stillness  of  Politics.  Though  this,  in  some  degree,  be 
common  to  them  all,  yet  I  know  of  none  who  exem 
plifies  the  case  so  fully  as  the  famous  IGNATIUS 
LOIOLA.  This  wonderful  Person  began  his  ecst antes 
in  the  mire,  and  finished  his  course  in  the  direction 
and  execution  of  Councils,  which,  even  in  his  own 
life-time,  were  ready  to  ijve  I<aw  to  Christendom. 
Mr.  J.  Wesley  appears  to  have  studied  this  great 
Master  well:  though,  by  a  common  practice  of  those 
who  set  up  for  themselves,  he  kicks  away  the  steps 
by  which  lie  mounted.  "  I  rode  (says  he)  to  Oxford 
"•  — in  riding,  I  read  over  that  surprising  book,  the  Life 
"  of  IGNATIUS  LOIOLA.  Surely  one  of  the  greatest 
"  men  that  ever  was  engaged  in  the  support  of  a  bad 
*'  cause.  I  u'onder  any  man  should  judge  him  to  be  an 
"Enthusiast.  No:  but  he  knew  the  people  with 
u  whom  he  had  to  do.  And  setting  out  like  Count  7. 
"  with  a  FULL  PEUSUAS.ION*  that  he  might  L.SK  C,UILI-. 

U  TO     PROMOTE    TIIK     GLORY     Ol-     GoD  *.'%        Now     I 

desire  to  know,  how  any,  but  an  ENTHUSIAST,  could 
have  &  full  persuasion,  i.e.  be  persuaded,  bona  fide, 
that  he  might  use  guile  to  promote  the  glory  of  God? 
Or  how  any,  but  a  KXAVJ:,  could  succeed  in  this 
persuasion? — Cicero  observes  that  the  Eye.,  which  sees 
all  other  things,  sees  not  itself;  This  instance  will  shew 

it 

UUP,  he  had  aumrd  much  hv  obtaining  to  himself  the  useful 
Character  of  Prophet:  and  he  lost  nothing  hy  the  convictiou  of 
its  falsehood. 

f  Jouiu.  fiom  cept.  3,  1741,  to  Oct.  27,  1743,  p.  $7. 


Chap.  XII.]          OF    GRACE. 

it  to  be  equally  true,  that  the  AftW^vhich  plays  such 
strange  tricks,  is  often  very  inattentive  to  its  own 
frame  and  operations. 

Modern  SaintMp  then  being  so  subject  to  tlicse 
odd  traverses,  it  is  well  for  liorn  SOCIF.TIKS  that  we 
have  an  unerring  Rule  whereon  to  estimate  its  Claim. 
For  the  Apostle  having  declared  that  the  wistktmfrom 
alxrce  is  without  PAKTIALITY  and  without  livpo- 
CRISV  ;  if  such  qualities  be  found  in  those  W!K>  pre 
tend  to  derive  all,  immediately,  from  aboi-e,  we  need 
no  further  evidence  of  the  imposture.  And,  now, 
having  hitherto  used  this  famed  lleaxl  of  his  Sect  for 
an  Example,  it  would  be  unkind  to  drop  him  here, 
and  not  suffer  him  to  tinish,  as  lie  began,  his  Aposto 
lical  career. 

PARTIALITY  consists  in  dispensing  an  unequal 
measure,  in  our  transactions  with  Others : 

And  HYPOCRISY  in  attempting  to  cover  that  une 
qual  measure  by  prevarication  and  false  colours. 

The  Reader  must  have  been  very  inattentive  to 
what  hath  been  produced  from  Mr.  J.  Wesley's  JOUR 
NALS,  not  to  have  observed  the  many  convincing 
marks  of  the  writer's  partiality  and  fit/pocriti/.  The 
pas-lines  have  indeed  been  jjivcn  to  convict  him  of 
othrr  fanatic  qualities,  equally  inconsistent  with  the 
u'isdom  which  is  from  abort",  but  many  of  them  will, 
at  the  same  time,  serve  to  shew  how  ably  he  availed 
himself  of  these  two  political  Accomplishments. 

We  have  seen  in  general,  tliat  his  Followers  are  al 
ways  the  Childrtn  of  God;  and  his  Opposers,  th«» 
Children  of  the  Dtrcil.  But  the  iir^t  being  directed 
by  inward  feelings  and  the  impulse  of  an  inflamed 
fancy,  and  the  other  by  the  outward  testimony  of 
Scripture,  interpreted  by  human  reason,  it  is  no  gi 
wonder  that  Mr.  J.  Wesley,  who  saw  them  so  much 

unlike, 


384  T  HE   DOC T R I  N  E       [Book  II. 

unlike,  should  marshal  them  under  two  different 
Leaders.  But  what  shall  we  think,  when  \ve  find 
Imn  baying  the  worst  of  his  Friends  that  his  Enemies 
Iwe  said  of  him,  as  soon  as  ever  he  sees  them  pre 
sume  to  play  over  his  own  pranks  in  any  other  Name? 
If  they  follow  not  him,  they  are  Fanatics  and  Enthu 
siasts,  how  like  soever  they  he  in  all  other  things  to 
tl:eir  ghostly  Pattern. — •"  I  was  with  two  persons 
"  (says  Mr.  J.  Wesley)  who,  I 'doubt,  are  properly 
"  Enthusiasts.  For  first  they  think  to  attain  the  end 
"  without  the  means,  which  is  enthusiasm,  properly 
"  so  called :  again  they  think  themselves  inspired  by 
"  God,  and  arc  not.  But  false  imaginury  inspiration 
"  is  enthusiasm.  That  theirs  is  only  imaginary  in- 
"  spiration  appears  hence,  it  contradicts  the  Law  and 
*'  the  3kstinio$y*  $  These  are  wise  words  :  but  what 
do  they  amount  to?  Only  to  this,  That  these  two 
Persons  would  not  take  oat  their  Patents  of  Inspira 
tion  from  liis  Office;  anil,  therefore,  he  has  adver 
tised  them,  for  Counterfeits.  However,  thus  much 
we  i£;-tin  by  them,  that  all  modern  pretences  to  In 
spiration  are,  by  the  acknowledgment  of  Mr.  J.  Wesley 
himself,  to  be  tryed  by  the  Laiv  and  the  Testimony. 
lie  cannot,  then,  surely,  refuse  to  have  his  own  pre 
tensions  tried  bciore  that  Judicature  to  which  we  have 
uppcaled  him. 

.-.  (j; — ,  one  of  the  holy,  had  told  another 
?MC "•>•>,  tiiat  Mr.  J.  Wesley  was  a  Papist,  perhaps  on 
account  of  the  honour  he  does  to  auricular  confusion, 
one.  kind  of  which  he  recommends  to  his  HANDS. 
Upon  this  Miss  Cr- —  is  anathematized.  And  we 
are  told,  that,  in  consequence,  "  she  had  lately  bee* 
44  nrcin^  mad;  that  as  such,  she  was  tied  dj\vn  in 

*  Journ.  from  Ai'g.  13,  1738,  to  Nov.  i    1*39    p.  23. 

"  her 


Chap.  XII.]        0  F    G  R  A  C  E.  383 

her  bed  *."  Yet  all  these  circumstances  -of  madiwss 
have,  in  the  opinion  of  the  ablest  Physicians,  befallen 
Mr.  J.  Wesley's  favourite  Saints;  whom  he  has  vin 
dicated  from  that  Opprobrium  ;  he  has  laughed  at  the 
ignorance  -of  the  faculty ;  and  declared  those  equivocal 
marks  to  be  the  constant  Symptoms  of  the 


He  pr-onoturces  Sentence  of  Enthusiasm  upon  an 
other:  And  tells  us,  Wherefore,  without  any  disguise, 
— "  Here  (says  lie)  I  took  leave  of  a  poor,  ma(^, 
1  original  Et&hMfist,  W!K>  had  been  scattering  abroad 
"  LIES  in  every  quarter  f."  l]y  which  we  find,  that, 
even  in  Mr.  J.  Wesley's  own  opinion,  Fanaticism  and 
Kmrcery  are  very  near  neighbours. 

'l  I  had  much  conversation  with  Mr.  Simpson,  an 

'  original  Enthusiast, — I  desired  him  in  the  evening 

'  to  give  an  exhortation — He  did  so,  and  spoke  many 

"  good  things,  in  a  manner  peculiar  to  himself.   When 

"  he  had   done,    I   summed   up   what  he  had  said, 

"  methodizing  awd  explaining  it.     O  what  pity  is  it 

"  that  this  well-meaning  man  should  ever  speak  witli- 

"  out  an   Intcrj)rctor  ;]:*"— and  that  Mr.  J.  Wesley 

>hou!d  not  be  he! 

In  these  two  la^st  passages,  we  are  presented  with 
two  ()RJ<H\AL  ENTHUSJASTS.  Jmt  how  differently 
do  -w-e  find  them  treated  !  The  first  is  accused  of -doing 
the  work  of  the  Devil,  of  spreading  ties  of  his  Master ; 
on  which  account  his  Master  tufas  his  leave  of  him  : 
a  gentle  expression,  to  signify,  the  thrusting  him  out, 
head  and  shoulders,  from  the  Society  of  Saint* :  The 
other  likewise,  whose;  original  enthusiasm  i.s  made  to 
consist  only  in  want  of  Method,  or,  to  speak  more 

*  Journ.  from  Sept.  3,  1741,  to  Oct.  27,  1743,   pp.  73,  74. 
f  Jouru.  from  Oct.  27,  1743,  to  Nov.  17,  1746,  p.  71. 
J  I  hid.  p.  pi. 

Voj-  VJIt  C  c  properly, 


3$6  THE:  DOCTRINE         [Book  II. 

properly,  want  of  Methodism,  is  only  lamented,  as 
having  the  ill  lack  to <sp.eak  without .  an.. Interpreter. 
That  is,  without  having  his  doctrine  regulated  on  the 
dictates  of  his  Master.  Bat  the  First  set  his  Master 
at  defiance :  the  Second  spoke  many  good  things^ .  that 
is,  he  professed  a  doctrine  agreeable  to  Mr.  Wesley ; 
indeed,  in  a  manner  peculiar  to  himself,  that  is,  not 
on  Mr.  Wesley's  Authority,  but  his.  own.  Now, 
there  were  some  hopes  of  Him;  bat  none  at  all  of 
the  other.  Therefore  though  they  are  pronounced 
ORIGINAL  ENTHUSIASTS  alike,  yet  we  must  distin 
guish,  and  rate  their  Titles  very  differently.  The  first 
Original  was  of  his  original  the  Devil,  a  scattered 
abroad  of  lies  in  every  quarter :  The  second  was 
worth  •  recovering.  His  Original  Enthusiasm  was  a 
foundation,  like  Original  Sin,  to  erect  upon  it  a 
Bftbnurnent  of  Grace. 

.But  the  most  genuine  instance  of  enthusiasm,  which, 
he  tells  us,  he  will  give,  and  which,  without  doubtx 
he  does  give,  with  the. utmost  reluctance,  is  the  fol 
lowing.  He  preached  at  Tanfield- Leigh.  "  But  so 
"  dead,  senseless^  unaffected  a  congregation  (says  he) 
<(  have  I  scarce  seen,  except  at  Wickham.  Whether 
"  Gospel  or  Law,  or  English  or  Greek,  seemed  all 
"  one  to  them."  •  Yet  he  spoke-,  he  tells  us,  strong 
rough  words.  But  why  is  want  of  sense  put  into  this 
rough  description  of  their  unregenerate  State  ?  He 
owns,  that  numbers  of  the  Godly  were  without  any. 
And  why  would  he  elicite  sense  from  these  Gentiles, 
when,  upon  their  conversion,  they  were  finally  to  be 
deprived  of  it,  in  ecs fades  and  new  births  ?  However, 
as  ungrateful  as  the  Soil  appeared, — "  Yet  the  seed 
"  sown  even  there  was  not  quite  lost.  For  on  Thurs- 
"  day  morning,  between  four  and  five,  John  Brown, 
"  then  of  Tanfield- Leigh,  was  waked  out  of  sheep  by 
20  "  the 


Chap.  XII.]  OF   G  I! A  C E.  387 

"  the  voice  th&t <raiseth  the  dead;  and  ever  since  he 

has  been  full  of  love  *nd  peace. and  joy  in  the"  Holy 
'  Ghost."  But  now  see  what  comes  of  waking  these 
sleepers.  This  same  J~  I]—,  who  had  received  the 
Holy  Ghost  but  at  the  latter  end  of  November,  be 
came  so  freakish  by  the  beginning  of  December,  that 
he  even  forced  Mr.  J.  Wesley  (for  the  honour  of 
Methodism  itself)  to  pronounce  him.  likewise  a  gcmiine 
Enthusiast,  and  to  throw  aside  this  precious  Saint,  as 
flawed  by  over-baking,  amongst  the  useless  rubbish 
of  his  Shop. 

"  I  was  both  surprised  and  grieved"— here,  Reader, 

thou  mayest  safely  believe  him — "  at  a  genuine  in- 

'  stance  of  Enthusiasm.  J — B—  of  Tanfield-Leicrh, 

c  who  had  received  a  SENSE  of  the  love  of  God  a 

'  few  days   before,  came  riding  through   the  town, 

"  haltering  and  shouting'  [the  inseparable  symptoms 

of  the  new  birth]   "  and  driving  all  the  People  before 

'  him,  telling  them,  God  had  told  him  he  should  be  a 

"  KING,  and  should  tread  all  his  enemies  under  his 

"  feet  *." 

Now  this  being  the  only  FRUIT  of  the  seed  sown  in 
this  place,  had  it  not  been  better  to  have  let  these 
honest  people  alone?  who  appear  amiable,  even  through 
the  sarcastic  abuse  he  so  liberally  pours  over  them. — • 
"  At  Wickham,  I  spoke  strong  rough  words :  but  I 
"  did  not  perceive  that  any  regarded  what  was  spoken; 
"  The  People  indeed  were  exceeding  quiet,  and  the 
"  cold  kept  them  from  falling  asleep  \  till>  before  two, 
"  I  left  them  very  well  satisfied  with  the  Preacher 
"  and  with  themselves^"  And  why  should  they  not! 
Why  is  this  poor  satisfaction,  in  themselves,  which 
they  had  so  liberally  expressed  towards  him,  be  grudged 

*  Journ.  from  Sept,  3,  1741,  to  Oct.  27,  1743,  p.  79. 
t  Ibitl.  p.  78. 

c  c  2  them? 


388  THE    DOCTRINE         [Book  I L 

them?  A  reasonable  Man  desires  no  niore,  than  that 
his  friends  he  satisfied  with  him ;  he  does  not  expect, 
nay,  he  would  he  sorry,  to  find  them  dissatisfied  with 
themselves.  But  such  an  equality  of  mind  and  mea 
sure,  as  in  the  good  people  of  Wickham,  is  destructive 
of  all  the  schemes  of  a  Fanatic  Leader:  Who 
must  find,  or  make,  a  People  desperate,  and  ready 
to  hang  themselves,  before  they  can  be  prepared 
and  rightly  tempered  for  the  sacred  Mold  of 
Methodism. 

We  shall  end,  where  every  Fanatic  Leader  ends — 
with  his  HYPOCRISY.  And  if  evasion  and  prevarica 
tion)  in  the  most  essential  points  of  his  Ministry,  may 
be  called  by  that  name,  I  cannot  see  hq\v  Mr.  J. 
Wesley  will  escape  from  having  this  concluding  mark 
of  imposture  fixed  upon  him, 

I.  We  have  wearied  ourselves  and  Readers,  in  re* 
counting  the  numberless  MIRACLES  by  which  He  and 
his  affairs  have  been  supported,  amidst  a  cloud  of 
Witnesses  well  disposed  to  magnify  the  scene.  Yet, 
after  all  this,  with  a  WORLDLY  PRUDENCE  which  one 
would  not  expect  in  a  man  who  calls  it  the  mystery 
vf  Iniquity  >  bethinks  fit  to  secure  himself  a  retreat, 
in  case  all  these  wonders  should  become  prohlematical. 
For  after  having  heaped  them  upon  one  another, 
Olympus-high,  throughout  nine  copious  Journals,  he 
sneaks  away  under  the  cover  of  a  puny  Wonder,  and 
leaves  the  defence  of  all  his  Giant-miracles  in  the 
lurch  !  "  About  five  (says  he)  I  began,  near  the  Keel- 
"  man's  Hospital,  many  thousands  standing  round,  or 
"  sitting  on  the  Grass.  The  wind  was  high  just  be- 
M  fore ;  but  scarce  a  breath  was  felt,  all  the  time  we 
"  assembled  before  God.  I  praise  God  for  this  also, 
5*  Is  IT  ENTHUSIASM  TO  SJEJ:  GOD  IN  EVERY 

4<  BENEJIT 


Chap.  XII.]          OF    GRACE.  389 

"  BENEFIT  which  we  receive*?"  Certainly  it  is  not. 
The  Enthusiasm  consists  in  believing  those  benefits 
to  be  miraculously  conferred  by  a  change  in  the  esta 
blished  order  of  Nature.  This  is  the  Enthusiasm 
ivith  which  he  is  charged ;  and  this  Charge  almost 
every  page  of  his  Journals  will  support.  But  here,  by 
the  neatest  address,  he  covertly  insinuates  (as  a  Word 
to  the  Wise)  that  he  meant  no  more  by  his  Miracles 
than  the  seeing  of  God  in  every  benefit  we  receive. 
A  certain  Philosopher  f  of  great  name  fancied  he  had 
explained  the  nature  of  vision  well,  on  the  principle 
of  seeing  all  things  in  God  And  if  the  World  be  con 
tent  to  be  paid  in  such  coin,  our  Divine  will  riot  be 
long  in  its  debt.  He  can  explain  Miracles,  as  well 
as  the  other  explained  Nature,  by  the  knack  he  has 
of  seeing  God  in  all  things.  This  then  goes  a  great 
way  towards  ridding  his  hands  of  Miracles  when  the 
Inquisitive  become  troublesome.  But  as  he  well  knew 
it 'might  be  said  of  him,  "  If  you  part  with  your  Mi 
racles,  you  strip  yourself  of  the  credentials  of  your 
Mission,"  he  has  a  fetch  for  this  also ;  a  Friend  to 
help  him  at  a  dead  lift;  whose  opinion,  "  he  wishes 
"  all  calm  and  impartial  men  would  consider — Not 
"  to  establish  the  power  of  working  Miracles  as  the 
"  great  Criterion  of  a  divine  Mission  ;  when  Scripture 
"  teaches  us  that  the  agreement  of  doctrines  with 
i(  truth  as  taught  in  those  Scriptures,  is  the  only  in- 
"  fallible  Rule  J."  Suppose  now  any  sense  could  be 
drawn  out  of  these  gallimatias  of  Scriptures  teaching 
that  the  agreement  of  doctrines  with  truth  as  tttug/if 
in  those  Scriptures,  is  the  only  infallible  rule :  And 
that  it  might  mean,  "  that  Scripture  teaches  us,  that 

•  Journ.  from  July  20,  1750,  to  Oct.  28,  1754,  p.  18. 

f  Male  bran  che. 

£  JoMru.  from  Aug.  i<2,   1738,  to  Nov.  i,  1739,  p.  72. 

c  c  3  the 


390  THE   DOC  T II I N  E         [Book  II. 

the  conformity  of  its.  doctrines  with  the  truths  dis 
coverable  by  natural  light,  is  the  only  Criterion."  I 
then  ask,  Where  SCRIPTURE  teacheth  this  ?  I  ask  it, 
I  say,  Because  REASON  teacheth  another  thing :  for, 
from  the  Premisses,  of  the  conformity  of  Scripture 
doctrines  with  truth,  Her  Conclusion  is  only  this, 
That  Scripture  doctrines  are  true ;  not  that  they  were 
immediately  derived  from  Heaven.  I  am  afraid  there 
fore,  that  Scripture  is  here  much  scandalized,  by 
making  it  talk  a  language  so  dissonant  to  Reason. 
And  I  am  the  more  confirmed  in  this  opinion,  since 
Scripture,  from  the  mouth  of  Jesus  himself,  expressly 
says,  that  the/wsrer  of  working  miracles,  and  not  the 
conformity  of  Scripture  doctrines  to  truth,  is  the  greatr 
criterion  of  a  divine  Mission.  The  words  of  Jesus 
are  these :  "  If  I  had  not  done  amongst  them  the 
"  works  which  no  other  man  did,  they  had  not  had 
"  Sin:  But  now  have  they  both  seen  and  hated  mt? 
"  and  iny  Father  * ."  But  why,  in  case  no  Miracle* 
had  been  worked  amongst  them,  had  they  not  had  Sin  ? 
For  this  reason,  and  only  for  this,  that,  without 
Miracles,  there  was  no  sufficient  criterion  of  a  DIVINE 
MISSION.  And  Sin  could  not  be  imputed  to  them 
for  rejecting  a  Character  which  did  not  bring  its  full 
credentials  with  it.  From  what  I  can  see,  then,  Mr. 
J.  Wesley  must  either  stick  to  his  Miracles,  or  give 
up  his  Mission. 

II.  But  he  shifts  and  doubles  no  less  with  regard 
to  the  Ecstacies,  and  the  New-birth  of  his.  Saints. 
Sometimes  they  are  undoubtedly  of  God;  sometimes 
again  as  certainly  of  the  Devil:  but  he  is  constant  in 
this,  that  Natural  causes  have  no  hand  in  them.  The 
reason  is  plain :  He  could  make  both  GOD  and  the 

*•  John  xv.  24* 

DEVII 


Chap.  XII.]          OF    GRACE.  391 

DEVIL  conducive  to  his  purposes;  but  NATURE  is 
the  sure  destruction  of  every  fanatic  frolic, — The 
Saints  met  in  Fetter-lane  to  humble  themselves  before 
God  for  grieving  the  Holy  Spirit. — To  the  several 
offences  assigned,  Mr.  J.  Wesley  adds — "  But  above 
cc  all,  by  BLASPHEMING^  HIS  WORKS  amongst  us, 
"  imputing  it  either  to  NATURE,  to  the  force  of  ima- 
"  gination  and  animal  Spirits,  or  even  the  delusion  of 
"  the  DEVIL. — At  that  hour  we  found  GOD  with  us 
"  as  at  the  first.  Some  fell  prostrate  upon  the  ground. 
"  Others  burst  out,  as  with  one  consent,  into  a  loud 
*'  praise  and  thanksgiving.  And  many  openly  testified, 
"  therp  had  been  no  such  day  as  this,  since  January 
"  the  first,  preceding*."—"  On -Friday  many  were 
"  deeply-  convinced ;  but  none  were  delivered  from 
"  that  painful  conviction.  The  Children  came  to  the 
"  birth,  but  there  was  not  strength  to  bring  forth. 
"  I  fear  we  have  grieved  the  Spirit  of  the  jealous 
"•  God  by  questioning  his  work  \.n 

— "  Innumerable  cautions  were  given  me,  not  to 
"  regard  Visions  or  Dreams,  or  to  fancy  people  had 
"  remission  of  Sins,  because  of  their  Cries,  or  tears, 
"  or  outward  professions. — The  Sum  of  nay  answer 
"  was  as  follows  :  You  deny  that  God  does  now  work 
"  these  effects :  at  least  that  he  works  them  in  this 
"  manner.  I  AFFIRM  BOTH  :  because  I  have  heard 
s(  these  things  with  my  own  ears,  and  seen  them  with 
"  my  own  eyes.  I  have  seen  very  many  persons 
"  changed  in  a  moment  from  the  Spirit  of  fear,  horror, 
"  despair,  to  the  Spirit  of  love,  joy,  and  peace. — 
"  What  I  have  to  say  touching  Visions  or  Dreams  is 
"  this :  I  know  several  persons  in  whom  this  great 
"  change  was  wrought  in  a  dream,  or  during  a  strong 

*  Journ.  fropi  Aug.  12,  1738,  to  Nov.  i,  1739.  P-  59- 
t  Ibid.  p.  16. 

O..G  4  "  repre- 


392  THE    DOCTRINE        [Book  IL 

"  representation  to  the  eye  of  the  mind,  of  Christ, 
"  either  on.  tlie  Cross  or  in  Glory.  This  is  the  fact  *.". 
— Nayr  he  is  so  convinced  of  ks  being  tlie  work  of 
God ri  that  the  horrid  blasphemes  which,  ensued,  ho 
ascrihes  to  the  abundance  of  joy,  which  God  had  given 
to  a  poor  mad  woman  of  his  flock.  "  I  met  with  one, 
"  who  having  been  lifted  up  with  the  abundance  of 
"  joy  which  God  had  given  her,  had  fallen  into  blas- 
"  phemies  and  vain  imaginations.  a»  are  not  common 
"  to  men.  In  the  afternoon  I  found  another  instance^ 
"  nearty,  I  fear,  of  the  same  kind — She  had  her  pri- 
"  vate  revelations  so  called  f,"  £c.  But  now,  oi> 
a  sudden,  he  gives  us  the  reverse  of  the  Medal, 
and  directly  revokes  all  he  had  advanced — st  I  told 
"  them  they  were  not  to  judge  of  the  Spirit  whereby 
"  any  one  spoke,,  either  by  appearances  ot*  by  common 
"  report,  or  by  their  awn.  inward  fectiiigs*.  No,  no? 
"  by  any  Dreams,  Visions,  or  Revelations  supposed 
"  to  be  made  to  their  soul,  any  more  than  by  theiF 
"  tears,  or  any  ini'oluntary  effects  wrought  upon 
"  their  bodies.  I  warned  them,  all  these  were  in 
"  themselves  of  a  DOUBTFUL  DISPUTABLE  NATURE* 
"  They  might  be  from  GOD,  or  they  might  not|." 
The  Header  cannot  but  be  mueh  surprised  to  find  so. 
formal  a  recantation  of  what  he  had  said  §  just  above 
concerning  inward  feelings,  dreams,  visions,  and  ec* 
stacies ;  and  of  his  own  confidence  in  affirming,  these 
to  be  the  work  of  Godr  from  his  having  both  heard 
these  things  with  his  own  ears,  and  from  his  having 
wen  them  with  his  own  eyes ;  for  here  he  denies  common 
report,  (and  are  not  other  people's  ears  and  eyes  as 

*  Journ.  from  Aug.  12,  1738,  to  Ner.  i,  1739,  p.  49. 
f  Journ.  from  Nov.  1,  1739,  to  Sept.  3,  1741,   p.  54. 
J  Journ.  from  Aug.  12,  1738,  to  Nov.  i,  1739,  pp.  60,  $1. 
\  See  p.  391. 

good 


Chap.  XII.]          OF    GRACE,  393 

good  as  his  ?)  or  appearances,  or  even  feelings,  to  be 
a  sufficient  ground  of  assurance :  of  this,  I  can  give 
no  better  account,  and  perhaps  the  Reader  will  deaire 
no  better,  than  this,  that  when  our  Apostle  thought 
fit  thus  to  unsay  what  he  had  so  confidently  affirmed 
before,  it  was  in  a  desponding  hour,  when  he  was  in 
much  doubt  whether  God  would  not  lay  him  aside  and 
fic/id  other  Labourers  into  hjs  harvest  *.  Under  these 
fears  he  seemed  resolved,  at  least,  that  these  ne\r 
Labourers  should  not  reap  what  he  had  sown :  and 
tlierefore,  at  all  adventures,  thought  proper  to  cut  the 
ground  from  under  their  feet 

At  length,  finding  his  Cause  sufficiently  disgraced 
bv  the   unruliness  of  these  divine  Agitations:    and 

;  • 

knowing  (as  we  shall  see  presently;  how  to  make  a 
better  use  of  them ;  he  fairly  gives  them  all  to  the 
DEVIL.  "  I  enquired  (says  he)  into  the  case  of  those 
"  who  had,  almost  every  night  the  last  week,  cried 
"  out  aloud,  during  the  preaching.  I  found  that  all 
"  of  them  were  persons  in  perfect  health,  and  had 
"  not  been  subject  to  Fits  of  any  kind  till  they  were 
"  thus  affected :  that  this  had  come  upon  every  one 
"  of  them  in  a  moment,  without  any  previous  notice, 
"  while  they  were  either  hearing  the  word  of  God,  or 
"  thinking  on  what  they  had  heard :  that  in  that  nx>- 
"  ment  they  dropt  down,  lost  all  their  strength,  and 
"  were  seized  with  violent  pain.  This  they  expressed 
"  in  different  manners.  Some  said,  they  felt  just  us 
"  if  a  sword  was  running  through  then?  ;  others,  that 
"  they  thought  a  great  weight  lay  upon  them,  as  if 
"  it  would  squeeze  them  into  the  Earth.  Some  said 
"  they  were  quite  choked,  so  that  they  could  not 
"  breathe ;  others,  that  their  hearts  swelled  ready  to 
"  burst:  and  others,  that  it  was  as  if  their  Heart,  as 

*  Jo*rn,  from  Aug.  12,  1738,  to  Nev  i,  1739,  p.  60. 

«  if 


THE    DOCTRINE        [Book  IL 

"  if  all  their  Inside,  as  if  their  whole  Body  was  tearing 
"  all  to  pieces.  These  Symptoms  I  can  no  more 
"  impute  to  any  NATURAL  CAUSE  than  to  the  SPIRIT 
"  OF  GOD.  I  can  make  no  doubt  but  it  was  SATAN 
*£  TEARING  THEM  as  they  were  coming  to  Christ 
"  And  hence  proceeded  those  grievous  cries  whereby 
"  he  might1  design  both  to  DISCREDIT  the  Work  of 
"•'  God,  and  to  affright  fearful  People  from  hearing 
"  that  Word,  whereby  their  souls  might  be  saved  *." 
Now,  the  Reader  ought  to  take  notice,  that  these 
were  the  very  Symptom*  which  Mr.  J.  Wesley  had 
before  ascribed  to  the  Spirit  of  God. — But  by  this  time 
he  was  sensible,  and  so  he  confesses  in  this  very  place, 
that  they  had  DISCREDITED  the  /Fork:  They  were 
therefore  to  be  sent  to  the.  DKVIL,  from  whence  they 
came;  yet  still  upon  Mr.  J.  Wesley's  Errand.  For 
there  is  nothing,  except  NATURE,  as  we  observed 
above,  which  he  cannot  put  to  some  good  use  or 
other.  And  this  new  Donation  of  the  ecstacies  of  the 
Saints  was  a  noble  foundation  for  what  he  was  now 
projecting,  the  Farce  of  DIABOLISMS  and  EXORCISMS. 
Well,  therefore,  might  he  exult  over  this  Old  Mis 
chief-maker,  as  not  having  wit  enough  to  discern  that 
he  was  over-matched ;  and  that  Mr.  John  Wesley  was 
too  hard  for  him.  /  womkr  (says  he)  the  Devil  has 
not  wisdom  enough  to  discern  that  he  is  destroying  his 
own  Kingdom :  f.  Indeed,  he  has  fairly  turned  the 
tables  upon  SATAN  :  and  shewn  us,  that  he  can  make 
full  as  good  an  use  of  a  POSSESSION  from  below  £,  as 
of  an  INSPIRATION  from  above. 

III.  The  Reader  remembers  how  contemptuously 
Mr.  Wesley  has  spoken  of  Orthodoxy,  or  true  belie/') 

*  Journ.  from  Sept.  3,  1741,  to  Oct.  ay,  1743,  p.  91. 
f  Joum.  from  Nov.  i,  1739,  to  Sept  3,  1741,  p.  56. 
J  ?ce  pp.  334—  33°V 

even 


Chap.  XII.]  OF    GRACE.  395 

even  to  the  questioning  whether  it  makes  any  part  of 
Religion  at  all ;  certain  is  he,  that,  at  hest,  it  makes 
but  a  very  slender  part.  "  It  is  a  point,  says  he,  \v« 
"  chiefly  insist  upon,  that  Orthodoxy,  or  right  Opinion, 
"  is  at  best  but  a  very  slender  part  of  Religion,  if  any 
"  part  of  it  at  all*."  This  was  done  to  take  in  as 
many  as  he  could,  from  amongst  the  Sectaries ;  but 
when  he  wants  to  take  0/Tas  many  as  he  can,  from 
Amongst  the  Churchmen,  then  Orthodoxy,  or  true 
belief,  is  like  Methodism,  the  U-ntim  Necessarium :  or, 
to  speak  more  properly,  Orthodoxy  and  Methodism 
are  but  two  words  for  the  same  thing.  "  About  a 
"  thousand  people  stood  patiently  while  I  simply  dc- 
"  scribed  the  plain  old  Religion  of  the  Church  of 
*•  England,  which  is  now  almost  everv  where  spoken 
"  against,  under  the  new  name  of  Methodism}" 

IV.  We  have  seen  him  (in  the  true  spirit  of  a  Sec 
tary)  inviting  and  even  provoking  Persecution^  as  the 
only  means  of  making  the  good  seed  take  root :  .for, 
alter  having  sown  it  in  the  mud  and  slime  Q^jieid preach- 
ing,  he  then,  by  a  kind  of  ^Egyptian  Husbandry  J, 
draws  together  whole  droves  of  obscene  Animals,  who 
rush  furiously  in,  and  trample  it  about ;  but  this,  as 
that  Mother-seat  of  ARTS  may  have  informed  him,  only 

made  it  spring  up  the  better.- "  The  Mob,  says  lie, 

"  gathered  in  great  numbers  about  my  door,  and  quite 
"  closed  me  in.  /  rejoiced  and  blessed  God,  knoichig 
"  this  was  the  time  I  had  long  been  looking Jbr  §."  But, 
mistake  him  not  A  Persecution  he  ccrtantly  wished, 

*  Mr.  Wesley's  plain  Account,  £c.  p.  4. 

•f  Jouru.  from  Aug.  12.  1738,  to  Nov.  i,  1739,  p.  &*. 

j  in  suanvquisque  rus  jacto  scmine,  Sues  immittit,  el 

satis  conculcato  a  Suibus  suiniae,  messvui  delude  p\pectat:  lluoU* 
1.  ii.  c.  14. 

$  Jpu.ro,  from  Kov,  i,  17^,  to  Sept.  3,  1741,  p.  56. 

and 


396  THE    DOCTRINE         [Book  IL 

and  as  diligently  sought.  But  it  was  for  his  beloved 
Saints,  who,  as  he  says,  wanted  it  *,  who  hungered 
after  it ;  not  for  himself,  who  had  no  stomach  to  it, 
especially  when  it  grew  serious,  as  once  upon  a  time 
it  did. 

In  his  ramble  to  Georgia,  he  got  acquainted  with 
one  Mrs.  Williamson  (so  he  himself  tells  his  story),  to 
whom  he  refused  the  Sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper. 
She  had  done  some  wrong,  it  seems,  to  her  neighbour. 
What  it  was,  he  does  not  tell  us.  The  Uncle  (he  says) 
desired  he  would  declare  in  the  Court-house,  why  he 
expelled  Mrs.  Williamson  from  the  holy  Communion, 
but  he  declined  it,  as  apprehending  many  ill  consequences 
might  arise  from  so  doing.  What  lie  would  not 
declare,  the  Uncle  did ;  and  said,  that  it  was  in  revenge 
for  rejecting  his,  Mr.  Wesley's,  proposals  of  marriage, 
and  marrying  Mr.  Williamson.  The  Husband  prose 
cuted  him  for  defamation:  and  the  Wife,  says  Mr. 
Wesley,  "  swore  and  signed  an  affidavit,  insinuating 
"  much  more  than  it  asserted,  but  asserting,  that  he, 
"  Mr.  Wesley,  had  many  times  proposed  marriage  to 
"  her,  all  which  proposals  she  had  rejected." 

In  consequence  of  this,  "  He  is  presented  by  the 
"  Grand  Jury,  upon  oath,  as  having  broken  the  Laws 
"  of  the  Realm  by  speaking  and  writing  to  Mrs. 
"  Williamson  against  her  husband's  consent ;  by  re- 
"  pelling  her  from  the  holy  Communion,"  &c.  The 
matter  was  now  growing  serious ;  the  Georgians,  he 
found,  did  not  understand  raillery,  in  the  affair  of 
spiritual  Gallantry.  It  was  time  for  him  to  look  about 
him.  In  this  distress,  he  began  to  have  recourse,  as 
usyal,  to  his  revelations — "  I  consulted  my  friends, 
"  whether  God  did  not  call  me  to  return  to  England. 
"  The  reason  for  which  I  left  it  had  now  no  force,  there 

*  See  p.  364. 

"  being 


Chap.  XII.]  OF    GRACE.  397 

91  being  no  possibility,  as  yet,  of  instructing  the  In- 
lc  dians :  neither  had  I,  as  yet,  found  or  heard  of  any 
"  Indians  on  the  continent  of  America,  who  had  the 

"  least  desire  of  being  instructed. After  deeply  con- 

"  sidering  these  tilings ;  they  were  unanimous  that  I 
"ought  to  go;  but  not  yet."  However,  the  Magis 
trate  quickened  his  pace.  He  was  declared  an 
Enemy  to,  and  llinderer  of,  the  public  peace. — "  I 
"  again  (says  he)  consulted  my  friends,  who  agreed 
"  with  me,  that  the  time  we  looked  for  was  now  come" 
The  Header,  who  has  seen  him  so  long  languish  for 
persecution,  will  conclude,  he  was  now  preparing  to 
meet  it  with  the  constancy  of  a  Martyr.  No  such 
matter.  lie  was  preparing  for  his  flight.  But  to  hide 
his  poltronery  in  a  bravado,  he  gave  public  notice  of 
his  Apostolical  intention.  On  which  the  Magistrates 
ordered  that  he  should  first  find  security  to  appear, 
when  summoned,  to  answer  the  Charge  brought  against 
him.  But  he  refusing,  they  published  a  Placart,  "  rc- 
"  quiring  all  the  Officers  and  Sentinels  to  prevent  his 
"  going  out  of  the  Province;  and  forbidding  any  per- 
"  sons  to  assist  him  in  so  doing."  Things  were  now 
come  to  a  crisis :  and  Mr.  J.  Wesley,  on  the  whole, 
thought  it  best  to  retreat  without  beat  of  drum ;  and 
to  steal  a  march  upon  the  Enemy. — "  I  saw  clearly 
"  (says  he)  the  hour  was  come  for  leaving  this  place. 
"  And  as  soon  as  Evening  Prtn/er  was  over,  [for 
<c  Prayer  must  always  make  a  part  in  his  Stratagems], 
"  about  eight  o'clock,  the  tide  then  serving,  /  shook  off 
"  the  dust  of  my  feet  *."  A  very  pleasant  way,  truly, 
of  acting  the  Apostle.  But  if  he  made  the  path  easy 
for  himself,  he  took  care  to  render  it  doubly  perplexed 
for  his  Followers.  He  left,  we  see,  his  little  Flock  in 

•  Journ.  from  his  embarking  for  Georgia,  to  hii  return  t« 
London,  pp.  46 — 56. 

the 


3()8  THE    DOCTRINE        [Book  IL 

the  lurch,  to  answer,  as  they  could,  for  the  crimes  ob 
jected  to  their  runaway  Pastor. 

But  had  his  longings  for  persecution  been  without 
Hypocrisy,  he  had  here  the  fairest  occasion  of  honestly 
indulging  himself  to  the  full.  He  had  gone  as  far  as 
Georgia  for  it.  The  truth  of  his  Mission  was  brought 
in  question  by  the  Magistrate,  and  decried  by  the 
People ;  not  so  much  for  his  false  doctrines,  as  his 
Jake  morals.  The  honour  of  the  Gospel  was  wounded 
through  the  sides  of  its  pretended  Missionary.  There 
was  but  one  way  to  support  its  credit,  the  way  the  first 
Chiistiun  Preachers  always  took,  the  offering  up  them 
selves  for  the  Truth  they  preached,  and  for  the  Inte 
grity  they  professed.  Instead  of  this,  our  paltry  Mimic 
thinks  he  bad  discharged  an  Apostolic  office,  when  he 
applied  to  himself  an  Apostolic  phrase, — /  shook  off 
the  dust  of  my  feet,  says  he ;  much  easier  done  than 
shaking  cif  his  infamy.  Jesus,  indeed,  orders  his 
Followers  to  shake  off  the  dust  of  their  feet,  where 
the  inhabitants  would  not  receive  their  Doctrine,  that 
they  might  not  throw  away  their  time  in  vain  :  but  he 
never  directed  it  as  a  Trial-ordeal  of  innocence  when 
they  were  accused  of  immoralities,  and  the  honour  of 
the  Mission  concerned.  When  Paul  and  Silas  had 
been  imprisoned,  and  otherwise  evil  intreated  at  Phi- 
lippi,  neither  the  Miracle  nor  the  Magistrate  (when 
each,  in  their  turn,  had  set  open  the  Prison  doors) 
could  persuade  them  to  stir  a  step  till  they  had  pro 
cured  all  honourable  satisfaction  to  their  injured  Cha 
racters  *.  But  what  do  I  speak  of  the  cases,  in  which 
the  prudence ',  recommended  by  our  great  Master, 
directs  his  Disciples  to  avoid,  or  the  courage,  with 
which  he  inspires  and  enables  them  to  dare,  the  rage 
of  PERSECUTION  ?  We  are  now  on  the  detection  of  a 

*  Acts  XYU 

Hypo- 


Chap.  XII.]  OF    GRACE.  399 

HYPOCRITE,  who  expressed  his  longings  for perum* 
tion ;  wlio  invited  it,  \vho  provoked  it,  in  a  Country 
where  the  Magistrate  restrained  and  forbad  it;  and 
yet  ran  away  from  it  when  his  own  honour,  as  well  as 
that  of  his  little  Jlock,  should  have  induced  him  to 
oppose  himself  to  it ;  and  where  the  Magistrate,  by  his 
n\\n  account,  was  forward  enough  and  ready  to  oblige 
him.  But  he  ran  away,  like  a  Coward,  on  the  wings 
of  Prayer  and  the  Tide:  henceforth,  the  hatred  of  this 
unhospitable  Shore,  and  the  horror  of  the  entertain 
ment  there  prepared  for  him,  made  such  an  impression 
en  his  temper  and  his  fancy,  thatlie  lets  slip  no  occasion 
of  revenge.  For  when  the  good  man  was  got  back  to 
Europe,  and  even  forced  to  beat  it  on  the  hoof  as  far 
as  Hernhuth,  in  Germany,  before  he  could  get  into  a 
Land  of  Chrlsttdm  *,  he  overtook,  as  he  tells  us,  in 
a  little  village  on  the  road,  "  a  large  number  ofSzvit- 
"  zcrsy  Men,  Women,  and  Children,  singing,  dancing, 
"  and  making  merry,  being  all  going  to  make  their 
"  fortunes  in  GEORGIA.  Looking  upon  them  (says  he) 

"  AS    BEING  DELIVERED   INTO  MY   HANDS  BY  GOD, 

u  I  plainly  told  them,  what  manner  of  place  it  was. 
"  If  they  now  leap  into  the  Fire  with  open  eyes,  their 
<{  blood  is  on  their  own  hcad'\"  It  would  be  hard  to 
guess  how  he  came  to  look  upon  these  Sicitzers  as  de 
livered  into  his  hands  by  God,  unless  he  believed,  God 
was  bound  to  revenge  all  his  squabbles  with  the  young 
Wenches  of  his  Band.?,  (which,  by  his  Journals,  we 
find  were  not  a  few)  and  that  therefore  God  prepared 

*  "  At  Weymar,  \ve  came  before  I  know  not  what. great  roan 
"  (I  be Here  the  Duke)  who,  after  many  questions,  asked,  what 
*'  we  were  going  so  fur  us  Hernhuth  for?  I  answered,  to  SEE  TUB 
K  PLACE  WHERE  THE  CiiHiSTiANS  LIVE.  He  looked  hard,  and  lev 
"  us  go."  Journ,.  from  feb.  1,  1737-8,  to  bis  return  from  Germany, 

P-  45- 

|  Journ.  from  Aug.  12*  173^  to  Nav.  i,  1739,  p.  6. 

theiC 


THE   DOCTRINE        [Book  II. 

these  Switzers  for  the  Instruments  of  his  Vengeance. 
lie  made  a  proper  use  of  them ;  he  opened  tlidr  eyes ; 
and  so,  in  all  likelihood,  deprived  a  British  Colony  of 
many  useful  hands. 

V.  We  have  seen  above,  how  he  set  worldly  pru 
dence,  Christian  prudence^  and,  in  a  word,  every  thing 
which  bears  the  name  of  PRUDENCE,  at  defiance ; 
denouncing  it  to  be  the  Bane  of  Religion,  and  the 
Instrument  of  the  Devil.  This  was  but  necessary  to 
inflame  the  madness  of  his  Folio wers.  But  a  very 
different  language  is  required  when  the  ambition  of  his 
RIVALS  is  to  be  restrained.  Then  PRUDEXCE  is  the 
very  balm  of  Gilead,  the  assuagcr  of  hurt  Minds,  and 
the  great  restorative  of  sickening  Peace. 

But  we  should  take  the  affair  from  its  beginning. 
So  early  as  in  the  year  thirty- nine,  he  began  to  suspect, 
that  he  should  have  RIVALS  in  his  Apostolic  office. — 
*'  I  came  into  my  old  Room  at  Oxford,  from  which  I 
"  went  to  Georgia.  Here,  musing  on  the  things  that 
"  were  past,  and  remembering  how  many  that  came 
"  after  me  were  preferred  before  me,  I  opened  rny 
"  Testament  *,"  &c-  For  you  must  know,  Reader, 
that,  of  all  the  Superstition*  (and  they  were  not  a  few) 
which  struggled  for  Dominion  with  fanaticism  in  the 
Microcosm  of  this  holy  Man,  the  SORTES  SANCTORUM 
were  the  Chief;  a  species  of  Divination  to  which, 
St.  Austin  tells  us,  the  good  Christians  of  his  time  had 
recourse,  rather  than  consult  the  Devil,  like  their 
Pagan  Neighbours.  To  this  favourite  folly,  our  Mis 
sionary  refers  all  his  doubts.  It  is  his  Urim  and 
Thummim ;  and  he  applies  it  as  freely  and  irreverently 
to  his  occasions,  as  a  Village  Conjurer  does  his  Sieve 
and  Sheers.  At  this  time,  indeed,  it  afforded  him  but 

*  Journ.  from  Nov.  i,  1739,  to  Sept.  3,  1741,  pp.  14,  15. 

small 


Chap.  XII.]  OF   GRACE.  401 

small  relief.     lie  sunk  so  far  in  his  despondency,  tf.v  to 
doubt  whdthcc  God  would  nut  lay  him  aside,  and  -send 
other  labourers  hito  his  harvest  *.     We  soon  sec  what 
it  was  that  gave  him  these  erutl  twitches :  a  Rival, 
and  lie  no  small  One,  the  famed  Mr.  W  m  TK FIELD ; 
who  now  bewail  to  set  up  for  himself;   and,  indeed,  as 
much  the  madder  of  the  two,  to  ingross  the  favour  of 
the  Rabble.    While  the  Rivalship  continued  on  a  tole 
rable  footing,    Air.  J.  \Vcsley  contented  himself  with, 
now  and  then,   giving  his  beloved  hi  Christ  a  sly  wipe 
of  contempt,  as  occasion  presented;   and  under  the 
sgintly  symbol  of  praising  God  fur  //////.—"  I  read 
"  prayers,  and  Air.  ll'hltejleld  preached.    How  wise  is 
61  God  in  giving  different  talents  to  different  Preachers! 
"  even  the  little  improprieties  both  of  his  language  ami 
"  manner,  were  a  means  of  profiting  many  who  would 
"  not  have  been  touched  by  a  more  correct  discourse,  or 
"  a  more  calm  and  regular  manner  of  speaking  f."  This, 
we  sec,  was  full  in  his  teeth ;  and  by  a  side-wind  came 
up  to  that  Master- Preacher,  who  is  insinuated  to  be 
more  correct,  and  calm,   and  graceful,   in  his  Pulpit- 
Manners.     Notwithstanding  this,  Mr.  H'hitejidd  went 
on  triumphantly;    and    being   ambitious   to   advance 
himself  on   the  necks  of  his  Fellows,  taught  FAITH 
ALOVE;  and  offered  FREE  G RACK  to  a  People  little 
disposed  to  purchase  it.     Air.  J.  Wesley  was  an  Advo 
cate  for  WORKS:   but  he  must  do  them  himself,  if  he 
expected  any  good  from  them,  in  this  Contention.    For 
an  equivalent,  therefore,  to  Mr.  Whitelield's  spiritual 
Graces,  He,   like  another  Aloses,   dispensed  his  tem 
poral  Hlessings.    Particularly,  in  the  ART  of  Healing; 
lor  lie  would  trust  no  longer  to  the  GIFT,   full  as  his 
Journals  are  of  his  miraculous  Cures.    It  was  now,  lie 

*  Joiirn.  from  Aug.  12,  1738,  to  Nov.  l,  1739,   p.  60. 
|  Journ.  from  July  20,  1749,  to  Oct.  30,  1751,  1^24, 

VOL.  VIII.  "  D  D  found, 


402  THE    DOCTRINE        [Book  IP. 

found,  high  time  to  set  up  a  regular  Practice.  Accord 
ingly,  he  told  his  People  how  deeply  read  he  was  in 
Medicine,  which  he  had  studied  at  Oxford.  And  to 
prove  himself  no  Quack,  he  published  a  whole  book 
of  Receipts  or  Remedies  for  all  the  common  Distem 
pers  of  life.  At  the  same  time,  he  let  the  better  Sort 
understand,  he  was  well  skilled  in  the  medicina  Mentis. 
He  had  given  innumerable  flirts  of  contempt,  in  his 
Journals,  against  HUMAN  LEARNING:  and,  indeed, 
of  what  use  could  Learning  be  in  a  Religion  like  that 
which  he  propagated  ?  In  \vhich,  as  he  assures  us, 
Orthodoxy  or  right  belief  made  a  very  slender  part, 
if  any  part  at  all.  Yet  when  now  he  had  to  struggle 
with  a  Rival  pro  aris  8$  focis,  no  means  were  to  be 
left  untried  to  secure  his  Dominion.  He  therefore 
plainly  enough  informs  them,  that  he  was  ready  to 
teach,  in  a  better  and  more  expeditious  way  than  was 
hitherto  known,  even  to  the  UNIVERSITIES,  two  emi 
nent  parts  of  this  decried  Learning,  namely,  Rhetoric 
and  Ethics.  "This  week,  (says  he)  I  read  over 
"  with  some  young  men  a  Compendium  of  Rhetoric, 
"  and  a  System  of  Ethics.  I  see  not  why  a  man  of 
"  tolerable  understanding  may  not  learn,  in  six  months 
"  time,  more  -of  solid  Philosophy  than  is  learned  at 
"  0-xford  in  four  (perhaps  seven)  years  *."  Did  ever 
JESUIT  play  his  part  better?  Yet  even  this  would  not 
do.  FREE  GRACE  bore  down  all  before  it ;  and  Mr. 
Wesley  was  at  last  forced,  as  in  a  desperate  case,  to 
have  recourse  to  that  paltry  quack  remedy,  which  he 
had  so  much  scorned  and  execrated,  I  mean  PKU- 
DENCE. — "-I  believed  (says  he)  botli  love  and  justice 
"  required  that  I  should  speak  my  sentiments  freely 
*  to  Mr.  Wh— —  concerning  the  Letter  he  had  puh- 
''  lished,  said  to  be  in  answer  to  my  sermon  on  Jr<r 
*  Journ.-frcm  Nov.  25,  1746,  to  July  20,  1750,  p.  14. 

u  Grace. 


Chap.  XII.]  OF    OR  ACM. 

"Grace.    The  sum  of  .what   I  ob-erud   to  him   was 
"this:    i.  That  it  was  quite   I.UIJIUIU\T  to  publish 
:'  it  at  all,  as  being  only  the  pitting  of  ^capons  into 
"  their  hcwd*,  icho  lore  neither  the  ojic  nor  the  other. 
:<  2*  Tliat  if  he  was  constrained  to  hair  his  testimony, 
'AS    HL   'II:UJMEI>    IT,    against  the  error   {   uas  in, 
"  he  might  have  done  it  by   publishing  a  treatise  on 
"  this  head  without  CUT  culling  my  name  in  question." 
— -Here  our  Journalist  can  treat  with  scorn  that  very 
cant  in  which  himself  so,  much  abounds,  the  upplying 
Scripture  phrases  to  the  impertinence  of  modern  oc 
currences. — "  However    (adds   Mr.  Wesley)   he  had 
"  said  enough— to  make  an  open  (and  probably  irre- 
"  parable)  breach  between  him  and  me:   seeing  for 
"  a  treacherous  Wound  and  for  the  HKWKAYING  OK 
"  SECRETS  every  friend  av'/7  depart  *." 

AVithout  doubt,  the  Reader  will  be  curious  to  know 
what  these  Secret*  were,  which  had  been  so  ill  kept 
between  these  two  Free  Mason*.  Unt  the  purpose 
of  this  Discourse  is  not  to  prejudice  the  Readers 
against  this  extraordinary  Man,  from  anecdotes  on 
tradition,  or  from  secret*  bwraycd\  but  to  enable 
them  to  form  a  judgment  of  his  pretences,  from  what 
he  himself  has  openly  recorded  of  himself,  and  fre 
quently  repeated  to  the  World.  What  1  would  have 
them  observe  on  the  last  quoted  p  >>-a'jV',  is  only  this, 
that  Mr.  J.  Wesley,  alter  so  total  an  estrangement  from 
WOKLDLY  Pui  j)K.\c'F.,  has,  at  length,  in  his  distresses, 
been  forced  to  take  shelter  with  her.  And  for  Jiis  first 
visit,  it  must  be  ouned,  he  acquits  himsrjl  \<ry  udl 
after  so  long  an  ahse-nce. — The  Letter  Mr.  Whitrlichl 
had  written  should  not  have  been  published,  as  k<  it 
"  \ca*  putting-  Weapon*  info  I  he,  hand*  oj  the  common 
"  1'lnuwi" — It  should  not  have  have  been  published, 

*  Journal  fi.uu  Nov.  j,  ly-i),  to  Sept.  3,  1741,  j>.  78. 

i)  i)  2  as 


404  THE    DOCTRINE        [Book  II. 

as  it  tended  to  a  Schism  in  the  Society. — If  he  must 
needs  publish  it,  "  he  should  not  have  called  Mi\ 
"  Wesley "s  name  in  question"  as  this  tended  to  a 
breach  between  these  two  fast  friends. — And  if  he 
(Mr.  Wesley)  should  never  consent  to  have  this  breach 
closed,  he  was  justified  in  PRUDENCE,  since  the  Wise 
man  says,  from  a  treacherous  wound  and  bewraying 
secrets  every  friend  will  depart ;  which  he  understands 
to  signify,  every  friend  ought  to  depart.  Indeed,  the 
Reader  may  object,  that  there  was  one  expedient  of 
PRUDENCE  left  untried,  which  was,  the  meeting  his 
quondam  friend  halfway.  Mr.  Wesley  was  no  enemy 
to  this  use  of  PRUDENCE,  as  we  shall  see  presently. 
But  Mr.  Whitefield  was  too  formidable  a  Rival  with 
whom  to  compromise,  or  even  to  yield  an  inch.  A  less 
considerable  Opposer  might  be  managed  this  way, 
without  danger;  and  then  his  PRUDENCE  directs  him 
to  pursue  it. — <c  I  laboured  (says  he)  to  convince  Mr. 

"  G that  he  had  not  done  well  in  confuting  (as  he 

"  termed  it)  the  Sermon  I  had  preached  the  Sunday 
"  before.  But  he  was  absolutely  above  conviction  *." 
—Would  not  prudence  now  have  justified  him  in 
leaving  a  man  above  conviction,  to  the  error  of  his 
own  ways  ?  Surely  a  less  consummate  prudence  than 
Mr.  J.  Wesley's  would  have  done  so.  But  he  will  not 

kave  Mr.  G so  unkindly.     "  I  then  asked  (says 

"  he)  Will  you  meet  me  halfway  f  I  will  never  preach 
"  publicly  against  you.  Will  not  you  against  me  ? 
"  But  he  disclaimed  any  such  agreement." — When 
PRUDENCE  would  have  advised  him  not  to  preach 
publicly  against  the  Body  of  that  Clergy  to  which,  he 
.says,  he  belongs,  then  is  PRUDENCE  the  bane  of  Reli 
gion ,  the  mystery  of  Iniquity,  and  the  Whore  of 
Babylon  herself.  But  when  she  prompts  him  to  tempt 

*  Journ,  from  July  20,  1750,  to  Oct.  28,  1754,  p.  81. 

a  Bj'Q- 


Chap.  XII.]  OF    G R A C E.  405  ] 

a  Brother  of  the  same  trade  to  meet  half  way,  and  not 
to  preach  publicly  against  him,  then  is  PRUDENCE  of 
heavenly  birth,  and  sent  for  the  assistance  of  the  Saints : 
at  present,  indeed,  honestly  employed  in  the  charitable 

errand  of  inviting  Mr.  G to  play  the  Hypocrite 

Avith  him :  for  he  declares  Mr.  G to  be  absolutely 

above  conviction ;  that  is,  in  conscience  unable  to  stir 
a  step ;  which,  too,  was  his  own  case  :  yet,  in  the  same 
breath,  he  proposes  to  meet  him  half  way.  But  Mr. 

G approved  himself  the  honester  man.     From  all 

this  \ve  have  reason  to  conclude,  that  Mr.  J.  Wesley, 
amidst  his  warmest  exclamations  against  Worldly  PRU 
DENCE,  against  Christian  PRUDENCE,  and  against 
PRUDENCE  of  every  denomination,  had  it  still  in  petto 
to  employ  a  succcdaneum,  on  a  pressing  occasion  : 
which  he,  indeed,  calls  PRUDENCE  ;  but  which,  to  save 
the  credit  of  his  consistency,  he  had  better  have  let  go 
under  its  true  name  of  CRAFT. 

Thus  have  I  endeavoured  to  tear  off  the  Mask  from 
the  furious  and  deformed  visage  of  Fanaticism  and 
Seduction.  The  power  of  Religion  hath  enabled  me : 
and  the  interests  of  Religion  have  excited  me  to  this 
attempt;  nothing  so  much  discrediting  the  Doctrine 
of  GRACE  as  these  counterfeit  impressions  of  the  Spirit 
of  God.  For,  since  the  descent  of  the  Holy  Ghost 
was  no  longer  in  the  rushing  mighty  wind,  but  in  the 
.still  small  voice,  licentious  men  have  been  but  too  apt 
to  conclude,  either  that  GRACE  was  an  imaginary 
Power ;  or  at  most,  that  it  was  no  other  than  that 
assistance  which  the  divine  attribute  of  Goodness,  as 
discoverable  by  natural  light,  was  always  ready  to 
impart  to  distressed  and  helpless  Mortals;  Justus  they 
would  persuade  theniM'lvrs  that  REDEMPTION  is  no 
thing  die  than  that  iv-t'>rnti<m  t<,  God's  favour,  which 

i)  i>  3  his 


4o6         THE  DOCTRINE  OF  GRACE. 

his  mercy,  discoverable  too  by  Hie  same  light,  prepares 
and  lays  open  to  repentant  Sinners. 

The  Reader,  in  conclusion,  \\ill  take  notice,  that  the 
order  I  have  here  followed,  is  that  which  is  best 
adapted  to  shorten  the  controversy,  and  to  cat  off  ail 
chicane  and  evasion. 

1.  I  have  singled  out  the   Founder  and  Leader  of 
the  Sect,  that  no  one  may  have  pretence  to  say,  that 
what.    He  is  here  shewn  to  teach  and  practise,  is  not 
true  and  genuine  METHODISM. 

2.  I  have  confined  my  remarks  to  his  own  adven 
tures,  recorded  by  his  own  pen,  and  here  fairly  quoted 
in  his  own  words ;  that  no  one  may  have  pretence  to 
say,   I  have  foolishly  confided   in  false  or  uncertain 
reports  :  or  unjustly  made  the  Sect  answerable  for  the 
indiscretions  and  absurdities  of  every  obscure  FIELD- 
PREACHER. 

3.  I  have  taken  the  Methodists  at  their  word,  when 
they    call    themselves    -members    of    the    Church  of 
England,  that  I  might  not  run  the  hazard  of  confound 
ing  both  the  Reader  and  myself  with  long  and  blind  scho 
lastic  disputations  on  original  Sin,  irresistible  Grace, 
and  justifying  Faith  ;  on  Regeneration,  Election,  lte~ 
probation,  and  the  immerit  of  good  Works.     To  their 
-MODE  of  teaching,  and  not  to  the  things  taught,  I 
confine  my  discourse.      Of  that,    every  reader    can 
judge;  and  of  that,  he  has  a  sure  rule  to  judge  by,  the 
MARKS  delivered -by  the  holy  Apostle  St.  James  of  the 
Wisdom  which   is  from  above:    MARKS,  which  (for 
weighty  reasons  already  explained)  refer  mostly  to  the 
mode  of  teaching;  and  which,  if  not  found  in  this  n<*w 
'mode  of  incthodist- teaching,  are  sufficient  to  convict  it 
of  lmpo?ture. 


THE 


DOCTRINE    OF    GRACE; 


OR, 


THE  OFFICE  AND  OPERATIONS  OF  THE 
HOLY  SPIRIT. 


BOOK    III. 


V*. 


C  II  A  P.    I. 


I  NOW  turn,  for  what  remains  of  this  Discourse, 
to  those  sober  Ministers  of  the  Established  Church,. 
\vlio  hold  themselves  bound  to  obey  its  DISCIPLINE 
as  well  as  to  profess  its  DOCTRINES. 

If  any  good  use  can  be  made  of  what  has  been  al 
ready  said,  it  will  be  chiefly  promoted  by  these  Reve 
rend  Men,  who,  in  honour  of  the  Church  which  they 
serve,  and  in  gratitude  to  the  State  by  which  they  are 
protected,  will  make  it  their  first  care  to  support 
that  most  just  of  all  Public  Laws,  the  Law  of  TolE- 
UATION:  which,  how  long  soever  obstructed  in  its 
passage  to  us,  and  how  late  soever  arrived  amongst 
us,  is  certainly  of  DIVINE  ORIGINAL.  Nor  will  such 
Men  ever  venture  to  refine  upon  it  (which  will  always 
be  to  weaken  it)  by  idle  distinctions  between  the  letter 
and  the  spirit  of  the  Law.  For  between  these,  in 
well-composed  Laws,  there  is  no  difference ;  the  letter 
being  no  other  than  the  language  and  expression  of 
I)  D  4  .  the 


408  THE    DOCTRINE      [Book  HI. 

the  .spirit.  Indeed,  one  would  wonder,  they  should 
ever  have  been  opposed,  did  we  not  know  how  ready 
Superstition  has  always  been  to  support  the  interests 
of  bad  Policy,  in  vitiating  both  the  intellects  and  the 

..'  '  O 

morals  of  Mankind.  God  once  gave  a  preparatory 
Religion  to  a  select  People,  under  the  name  of  LAW, 
by  which  the  future  dispensation  was  halt- revealed 
and  half-hidden.  In  such  a  Law  the  letter  and  the 
spirit  were  necessarily  different.  A  difference,  which 
the  Ministers  to  whom  the  propagation  of  this  future 
Religion  has  been  intrusted,  have  been  much  accus 
tomed  to  inculcate.  Hence  Superstition,  in  this,  as 
in  many  other  cases  of  the  Jewish  Law  ill  understood, 
very  absurdly  applied  that  distinction,  to  Civil  Laws 
and  compacts ;  where  the  full  meaning  was  instant, 
and  should  be  obvious ;  and  where,  j\s  far  as  there 
was  any  real  difference,  so  far  were  ttiesc  I^iws  of 
defective  Composition. 

The  Friend  of  Toleration  therefore  will  not,  I  say, 
make  any  distinction,  or  contend  for  any  difference, 
between  the  letter  and.  \htspirit  of  this  Sovereign  Lavr 
of  Nature.  Tins  mischievous  employment  will  be  the 
task  of  him  who  regards  it  but  as  a  temporary  expe 
dient,  forced  upon  us,  to  prevent  greater  evils.  And 
as,  amongst  the  friends  of  Toleration*  the  English 
Clergy,  seduced  by  a  common  error,  were  not  amongst 
the  first  to  give  it  a  cordial  reception,  it  seems  in 
cumbent  on  their  Successors  (who  were  however 
amongst  the  first  to  detect  that  common  error\  to 
obliterate  the  memory  of  the  old  prejudices  of  their 
Order,  by  the  wannest  patronage  and  support  of 
what  their  more  reasonable  principles  now  so  much 
approve. 

Their  friendly  attachment  to  this  Law  will  be  best 
seen  by  their  regarding  it,  first,  as  doing  honour,  in 

a  spiritual 


Chap.  I.]  OF   GRACE.  409 

a  spiritual  war,  to  a  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH  ;  implying 
confidence  in  the  truth  of  its  constitution,  and  that 
it  will  receive  no  detriment  by  a  comparison  with  any 
other,  how  near  or  close  soever  they  may  be  set 
together. 

And  secondly,  as  bestowing  benefit,  in  an  ecclesi 
astical  viezv,  on  the  NATIONAL  CHURCH;  it  bein<* 

7  O 

a  certain  Maxim,  that  an  Established  Religion,  under 
a  Toleration  and  a  Test*  will  always  go  on  enlarging 
its  bounds  ;  since  the  restraint  which  this  latter  Law 
imposes,  is  so  Jight,  that  it  is  considered  rather  as  a 
small  inconvenience  than  an  injury;  a  burthen  so  easy 
as  not  to  exasperate,  but  barely  to  excite  in  men  a 
disposition  to  remove  it. 

In  a  word,  the  CHURCH  in  which  religious  liberty 
is  cordially  entertained  and  zealously  supported,  may 
be  truly  called  CHRISTIAN  :  for  if  the  mark  of  the 
beast  *  be  PERSECUTION,  as  the  sacred  volumes  de 
cipher  it;  well  may  we  put  TOLERATION  as  the  seal, 
vf  the  living  God-\.  This  then  is  our  present  boast. 

True   philosophy,    so    lately  cultivated,   and    now 
happily  made  subservient  to  the  Truths  of  Religion, 
hath  rectified  many  of  those  Doctrines  which  the  still- 
misapplied  aid  of  the  false  had  deformed.    Nor  should 
the  HIERARCHY  (much  honoured  of  late  in  the  happy 
recovery  of  its  ancient  Ornaments,    the  Prelates  of 
high  birth  and  noble  lineage)  be  denied  the  praise,  so 
justly  due,  for  its  share  in  this  reform.     To  men  of 
Family,  we  are  taught,  by  experience,  to  ascribe  an     f 
innate  generosity  of  mind,    which   inclines   them    to 
whatever  is  polite  and  decent  in  private  lite;  and, 
in  public,  disposes  them  to  support  the  rights  of  hu 
manity  and  society.     They  are  reckoned  to  be  the 
low-born   and    Cell-bred   number,     in    whose    minds. 

•  Bevel,  xvi.  s.  f  Revel,  vii.  <i. 

Bigotry 


410  THE   DOCTRINE       [Book  TIL 

Bigotry  and  bitter  Zeal  are  apt  to  get  root  and  over 
spread.  So  that  the  Church  may  promise  to  itself 
great  advantages  from  the  genial  lustre  which  this  fair 
.Accession  to  the  sacred  College  is  now  deriving  to  it, 
DECUS  ET  TUT  AM  EX,  is  the  motto  inscribed  on  every 
Prelate's  mitre  ;  most  certain  to  be  read  in  every 
Prelate's  breast.  The.y/r*/  shines  naturally  out  in  the 
birth  and  manners  of  every  noble  Dignitary;  the  latter^ 
his  solemn  engagements  will  make  him  studious  to 
discharge. 

But  this  great  Work  will  not  be  done  by  Talents 
at  large,  but  by  that  sort  of  Talents  only,  which  is 
suited  to  its  sacred  nature.  Every  Order  and  Station 
in  Society  hath  its  appropriated  and  proper  tone; 
where  a  consent  in  one  common  key  makes  that  har 
mony  which  gives  perfection  to  the  Whole.  It  should 
be  tiie  care  therefore  of  every  Member  of  that  Whole, 
to  tit  his  manners  and  accomplishments  to  the  natural 
tone  of  the  Body  which  he  honours,  or  by  which  he 
may  think  himself  honoured.  This  is  so  true,  that 
manners  and  accomplishments,  foreign  to  the  Profes 
sion,  nay,  though  in  general  estimation  of  a  superior 
kind,  -yet,  when  thus  preposterously  introduced,  destroy 
all  that  concord  which  maintains  its  dignity  and  use. 

On  this  occasion,  hear  an  old  Grecian  Tale.  A 
musician  -at  Athens  became  famous  for  a  sacred  L}re, 
descending  to  him,  through  a  long  race  of  Ancestors, 
from  the  first  Heroes  and  Demi-gods  of  Attica.  Its 
Tone  was  so  ravishing,  and  the  skill  of  the  Master,  in 
calling  it  out,  so  delicate  and  profound,  that  the  Artist 
and  his  Lyre  were  always  called  upon  to  bear  a  prin 
cipal  part  in  the  high  Solemnities  of  that  religious  City. 
It  happened,  that  in  the  midst  of  one  of  these  Cele 
brations,  a  chord  of  the  Lyre  broke.  It  was  strung 
in  the  ordinary  manner  with  nerves,  or  what  our 

musical 


Chap.  I.]  OF   GRACE.  411 

musical  neighbours  call,  conic  dc  boy  an:  But  the  ena 
moured  Owner,  to  do  all  honour  to  so  rare  a  wonder, 
unadvisedly  supplied  the  broken  string  with  one  of 
SILVER.  The  <x>n sequence  proved  fatal.  The  Lyre 
lost  all  its  harmony  and  sweetness  :  it  grew  harsh  and 
discordant.  The  People  abhorred  what  before  they 
had  dwelt  upon  with  raptures  ;  and  the  unhappy  Lyre, 
now  the  public  execration,  was  hung  up,  a  neglected 
thing,  a  silent  monument  of  the  folly  of  the  too-fond 
Possessor. 

Nor  should  the  great  Body  of  the  Clergy  be  for 
gotten  on  this  occasion ;  They  who  have  approved 
themselves  no  way  inferior  in  an  honest  zeal  lor  the 
support  of  Christian  Liberty.  If  any  stale  particles 
of  the  old  leaven  still  remain,  they  lie  perfectly  inac 
tive.  A  new  Start-up  Sect,  indeed,  will,  be  apt  to 
put  them  into  a  momentary  ferment :  and,  on  such 
an  occasion,  they  will  be  eager  to  expose  their  evil 
nature. 

Tlius,  the  first  appearance  of  METHODISM  'began 
to  heat  and  irritate  the  mistaken  Zeal  of  some  ill- 
instructed  men,  against  a  new  species  of  Fanaticism, 
which  pretended  to  be  of  the  Church,  and  yet  inso 
lently  affronted  its  discipline;  disdaining  to  shelter  it 
self  under  the  peaceable  shade  of  a  legal  Toleration: 
For  these  men,  in  their  hearts,  were  enemies  to  this 
Law,  as  fanatic  Sects  generally  are ;  who  contend  for 
religious  Liberty,  not  because  they  would  obey  con 
science,  but  because  they,  an'  please  you,  are  tlie 
Advocates  of  Truth;  Liberty ^  as  well  as  DvminWA, 
being,  in  their  opinion,  founded  in  CRACK*  This, 
indeed,  was  a  trying  occasion.  But  had  those  good 
men  considered  that  the  Methodists  provoked  the 
Public  patience  merely  to  procure  to  themselves  a 

k pcrwutiu/i;  for  to-more  (a<  they  very  uell  -knew) 

it 


4tff  THE   DOCTRINE       [Book  III, 

it  could  never  amount  in  a  State-  where  the  honour  of 
the  national  Religion  was  secured  by  a  Toleration, 
and  the  safety  of  it,  by  a  Test ;  had  they  considered 
this,  1  say,  they  would  have  left  these  factious  men 
to  their  own  inventions. 

Besides,  a  fairer  opportunity  never  offered  itself, 
to  do  the  Clergy  credit.  Had  we  appeared  easy  only 
with  those  who  had  qualified  themselves  to  claim  a 
legal  Toleration,  our  acquiescence  might  have  been 
imputed  to  our  impotency  in  contending  with  it.  But 
by  bearing  patiently  with  Methodism,  the  Clergy  might 
have  shewn  the  World,  that  the  Toleration-Act  had 
their  hearts,  as  well  as  their  outward  obedience; ;  for 
this  Sect  professed  to  be  of  the  Church,  and  yet,  at 
the  same  time,  dared  to  insult  its  Discipline,  and  set 
its  Governors  at  defiance ;  practices  which  no  equi 
table  indulgence  would  skreen  from  punishment.  This 
xvas  the  time  for  the  Clergy  to  vindicate  their  cha 
racter  from  the  calumnies  of  their  enemies ;  and  in 
general  they  wisely  laid  hold  on  it :  So  that  now  they 
can  be  no  longer  suspected  of  malevolence  to  the  Lam 
of  Toleration^  when  in  a  case  where  they  were  free 
from  its  influence,  they  yet  bore  with  temper,  and 
though  provoked  by  insolent  defiance,  connived  at  the 
behaviour  of  a  Sect  of  Fanatics,  over  whom  all  Laws, 
divine  and  human,  had  given  them  jurisdiction. 

But  then,  if  we  shew  ourselves  thus  rightly  disposed 
in  favour  of  this  divine  principle  of  Toleration,  where 
the  Law  hath  left  offenders  against  Church  Govern 
ment  to  the  justice  of  its  Rulers  ;  much  more  disposed 
shall  we  be  to  suffer  the  honest  Sectary,  who  hath 
legally  qualified  himself  for  the  enjoyment  of  his  re- 
lig-otis  liberty,  to  possess  it  without  trouble  or  control. 

-When  the  Law  of  Toleration  had  once  recognized 
this  universal  Right,  it  soon  became  apparent,  that 

that 


Chap.  I.]  OF    GRACE.  413 

that  other  Law  of  prior  date,  the  TEST  (for  the  forma 
tion  of  civil  Systems  does  not  always,  like  the  natural, 
begin  at  the  right  end)  was  now,  by  securing  the 
Rights  of  the  national  Church,  become  more  necessary 
than  ever  for  the  peace  of  the  State.  For,  by  this 
Law,  Sectaries  were  restrained  from  the  exercise  of 
certain  civil  Offices,  which  some  ir.en  have  been  pleased 
to  call  natural  Right* :  and  we  will  not  dispute  with 
them  about  a  word,  for  to  no  more  does  it  amount, 
since  it  is  confessed  that  Society  could  never  have 
been  formed  without  men's  giving  up  some  of  their 
natural  rights,  in  order  to  secure  the  peaceable  eu- 
joyment  of  the  rest. 

But  it  may  so  happen,  by  the  Custom  or  Constitu 
tion  of  Corporate  Bodies,  that  the  conditional  restraint 
which  the  Test  imposcth,  shall,  by  accident,  become 
a  benefit  or  advantage ;  as  when  a  Sectarian  member 
of  a  Corporation  is  appointed  by  his  Body  to  dis 
charge  a  very  important  though  very  onerous  Office  ; 
and  yet  not  permitted  by  the  State  to  enter  on  it,  but  on 
conditions  which  his  religious  principles  will  not 
suffer  him  to  comply  with.  For  it  having  been,  a  long 
time,  the  custom  for  the  Member,  when  nominated 
to  this  Office,  to  purchase,  of  the  Body,  an  exemp 
tion,  at  a  large  price,  called  a  Fine :  when  this  came 
to  be  demanded  of  a  dissenting  Member,  he  naturally 
replied,  that  it  could  not  equitably  regard  any  but 
Such  who  willingly  declined  a  permitted  Office;  cer 
tainly,  not  Those  whom  the  Laic  had  forbidden,  by 
severe  penalties,  to  discharge  it.  But  to  this  so 
plausible  a  plea,  it  was  thought  a  sufficient  answer, 
"  That  the  Law,  of  whose  restraint  the  dissenting 
Member  would  thus  avail  himself,  was  never  intended 


for  his  advantage  or  emolument." 


The 


THE  DOCTRINE       [Book  III. 

The  question  therefore  to  be  decided  was  this, 
<;  Whether  he  who  cannot  serve  is  equally  obnoxious 
"  to  the  Fine,  with  him  who  will  not?"  and,  to,  this 
day,  it  remains  undetermined  *. 

Now  I  humbly  conceive,  this  question  can  nevef 
be  rightly  resolved,  till  the  true  nature  of  the  TEST 
LAW  be  previously  settled ;  and  when  that  is  done,  it 
will,  I  suppose,  be  no  longer  disputable. 

Were  this  Law  enacted  to  draw,  or  to  drive,  Dis 
senters  into  the  National  Church,  the  prohibition,  of 
serving  Civil  Offices,  was  certainly  intended  for  a 
PUNISHMENT.  If  the  Law  were  enacted  only  to 
Iceep  Dissenters  out  of  those  Stations,  in  which,  by 
hurting  the  Church,  they  would  violate  the  peace  of 
the  State,  it  was  as  certainly  intended  for  a  RESTRAINT, 
only;  and  becomes  &  punishment  but  by  accident. 
.  Now  were  it  intended  for.  a  PUNISHMENT,  the  Fine 
is  most  just  and  equitable :  And  then  the  reasoning 
of  the  Body  against  the  Member,  "  That  the  Legisla- 
cc  turo,  by  this  Law,  never  intended  the  Dissenter 
**  should  receive  Civil  benefit  and  advantage/'  will 
not  be  without  irs  force ;  For  a  benefit  defeats  the  end 
of  the  Law. 

But  if  the  Test  impose  a  RESTRAINT  only,  and  it 
become  a  punishment  but  by  accident ,  it  may,  \vith- 
out  the  least  evil  influence  on  the  Law,  become  a 
benefit  likewise  by  accident.  Nay,  to  hinder  this  fair 
Chance  would  be  highly  unjust.  For  if,  from  the  in 
evitable  condition  of  human  things,  Particulars  receive 
damage  by  a  Law  which  respects  the  General,  and 
which  never  had  such  damage  in  its  intention,  it  is 
but  lit  they  should  have  the  same  chance  of  a  benefit, 
though  equally  without  the  intentiqn  of  the  Legislature* 

*  In  the  Spring  of  1762, 

Indeed^ 


Chap.  L]  OF   GRACE.  4U 

Indeed,  where  the   unprovided-for,  or  unthought- 
of,  Consequence  tends  naturally  to  defeat  the  purpose 
of  the  Law,  there  the  Interpreters  of  it  will  interpose, 
and  declare  the  advantage  taken   to   be  against  the 
Law ;  or,  which  amounts  to  the   saine   thing,   to  be 
unsupported  by  it.     But  an  accidental  benefit,  which 
arises  from  the  restraint  imposed,  seems  better  calcu 
lated  to  effect  the  end  of  the  Test  Law  (which  is  to 
keep  the  enemies  of  the  Church  from  ofiice   in   the 
State)  than   a  damage,  which  might  tempt  them   to 
violate  their  conscience  :  The  benefit  is,  indeed,  liable 
to  abuse  (and  what  is  there  in  civil  matters  which   is 
not  so?)  but  this  abuse  does  not  affect  the  purpose  of 
the   Law,  which  is  to  keep  Sectaries  out  of  Office. 
But  let  me  not  be  misunderstood,  as  if  any  tiling  here 
said,  in  favour  of  the  sectarian  Member,  was  meant 
to  include  the  occasional  Conformist.     For  if  such  a 
one  think  that  he  may,   with  his   conscience  unhurt, 
conform,  for  the   sake   of  lucrative  employments,  he 
can  never  be   permitted,  on   pretence  of  Conscience, 
to  plead  the  restrictive  law,  in   order  to   evade  those 
which  arc  onerous.     And  here  let  me  further  observe, 
that  the  Dissenters  will  not  seem  to  be  in  the  p  rope  rest 
circumstances  to  claim  the  advantage  of  the  distinction 
here  laid  down  in  their  favour,  till  they  have  a  little 
reformed  their  ideas  of  a  Test -laic.     For  they  have,  I 
think,  in   order  to  throw  the  greater  odium   upon  it, 
generally  represented   the  prohibition,    which  it   im 
poses,  as  intiicted   for  a  Punishment.     Now  we  have 
shewn,  that  if  o-ur  Lawgivers  intended  a  Punishment, 
it  defeats  their  purpose,  to  connive  at  its  becoming  an 
accidental  benefit.     I  only  remark  this  for  the  sake  of 
a  general  observation,    That   when    Bodies  of  men, 
whether  civil  or  ecclesiastical,  suffer  themselves  to  be 
misled  by  their  passions  and  prejudices,  their  interests 
1?  or 


416  THE   DOCTRINE      [Book  III. 

or  resentments,  the  errors  they  fall  into,  will  always, 
sooner  or  later,  turn  upon  themselves. 

Now  it  appears,  both  from  Reason  and  Fact,  that 
the  TEST  is  a  restrictive,  and  not  a  penal  Law,  in  the 
proper  meaning  of  these  terms. 

1 .  If  a  Law  may  be  understood  in  two  senses,  one 
of  which  supports  its  equity,  while  the  other  betrays 
its  injustice,  Reason  directs  us  to  adopt  the  first.     To 
punish  Sectaries,  in  order  to  bring  them  -over  to  the 
national  Religion,  is  plainly  wrong :  But  to  restrain 
Sectaries   from    hurting  the  national  Religion,  is  as 
plainly  right.     Therefore,  though  the  intention  of  the 
Legislature  had  in  this  particular  instance  been  doubt 
ful,  yet  a  general  Law  of  a  free  People  would  admit 
of  no  other  interpretation. 

2.  But  the  intention  of  the  Legislature  was  not 
doubtful :  and  the  reason  of  the  thing  is  supported  by 
fact.    When  this  Law  was  made,  the  national  Church 
was  deemed,  in  the  public  Opinion,  to  be  in  much 
danger  both  from  Protestant  and  Popish  Sectaries.  In 
the  early  days  of  its  establishment  indeed,  the  Govern 
ment  had  endeavoured  to  bring  Both  into  it;  and 
many  penal  Laws  were  enacted  for  that  purpose :  But, 
at  the  time  the  Test  became  a  Law,  that  visionary  and 
unjust  project  had  been  long  dropt ;  and  Government 
was  content  to    confine  its  care    to  the  protection^ 
rather  than  extension  of  the  national  Church.     Had 
this  latter  point  been  their  aim,  it  was  to  be  effected 
only  by  the  vigorous  execution  of  the  old  penal  Laws 
then  in  being.     The  Test  added  no  force  to  those ; 
but,  on  the  contrary,  greatly  relaxed  their  vigour,  by 
disposing  Government  to  repose  their  chief  confidence^ 
and  seek  their  only  remedy  for  disorders,  in.  this  new* 
made  Law, 

And 


•'. 


Chap.  I.]  OF   GRACE.  417 

And  now  may  be  seen  the  strength  of  that  Objec 
tion  made  to  the  Test,  as  it  is  legally  inforced  to  af 
fect  the  interests  of  Protestant  Dissenters,  viz.  "  that 
its   original  and   direct   intention  (a  fact  no  one  will 
deny)  was  to  oppose  to  the  machinations  of  Popery; 
and  that  therefore,  those  being  included  only  by  acci 
dent,  may  very  reasonably   be  overlooked."     But  if 
the  idea  here  given  of  the  Test-law  be  the  true,  it  is 
apparent,  that  the  general,  though  not  immediate  pur 
pose  or  the  Legislature,  in  this  Law,  WHS  to  provide 
for  the  safety  oi"  +hr  national  Church,  and  that  for  the 
sake  of  the  State,  from  what  quarter  soever  the  danger 
might    arise.     At  one   season  it  might    spring  from 
Popery ;  at  another  from  Puritanism  ;  but  the  various 
civil  mischiefs,  consequent  on  religious  quarrels,  were 
to  be  repelled,  as  they  sprung  up,  with  equal  vigi 
lance  and  vigour.     But  let  no  one  by  this  imagine, 
that  a  comparison  is  here  insinuated  between  Popery 
and  Puritanism.     As  Religions,  they  can  no  more  be 
compared  together,    than   a  body  irrecoverably  cor 
rupted,  with  one  but  slightly  tainted.     Yet,  with  re 
gard  to  the  civil  mischiefs  which  religious  differences 
occasion,  we  have  experienced,  that  the  lightest  matters 
often  produce  as  great,  as  the  most  important :  And 
the  surplice  and  cross  in  baptism  have  alienated  fellow 
Citizens  against  one  another  as  fiercely  as  the  tyrannic 
claim  of  a  Supremacy,  or  the  superstitious  worship 
of  dead  men  deified. 

However,  the  nature  and  genius  of  the  two  Sects 
is  sufficiently  discriminated  by  tolerating  the  one,  and 
only  (under  suspended  penal  laws)  connlcing  at  the 
other :  But  still  on  the  same  civil  prndples ;  these 
laws  not  being  directed  against  the  religious  errors  of 
the  Church,  but  the  political  perversities  of  the  Ccurt, 
RoMfc  ;  which  will  not  suffer  its  Subjects  to  give  any 
VOL.  VIII.  E  E  reasonable 


418  THE    DOCTRINE       [Book  III, 

reasonable  security  for  their  allegiance  to  the  supreme 
Magistrate:  For  with  religious  errors  as  such,  the 
State  hath  nothing  to  do,  nor  any  right  to  attempt 
to  repel  or  suppress  them.  They  are  the  civil  mis- 
chiefs  with  which  civil  Society  is  concerned,  the  mis 
chiefs  arising  from  religious  quarrels  when  the  two 
Parties  are  near  equal  in  Power  (as  I  suppose  they 
would  soon  be  under  a  Toleration  without  a  Test- 
law),  and  are  set  upon  repressing  one  another's 
errors. 

And  now,  since  so  much  hath  been  urged  in  be 
half  of  the  Dissenters,  their  Civil  and  Religious  Rights, 
they  will  bear  to  be  reminded  of  one  thing,  in  their 
turn ;  neither  to  abuse  the  Toleration  themselves,  nor 
to  screen  others  in  abusing  it.  And  the  case  I  am 
about  to  give  of  One,  who,  it  is  pretended,  was  thus 
screened,  will,  I  hope,  excuse  this  freedom.  It  is 
indeed  the  case  of  One  who,  without  doing  much  in 
jury  to  our  dissenting  Brethren,  can  never  be  reckoned 
in  their  number.  This  miserable  Buffoon,  of  whom 
I  would  be  understood  to  speak,  was  suffered  for  near 
thirty  years  together  to  turn  all  RELIGION  and  MO 
RALITY  into  ridicule;  once,  and,  for  some  time,  twice 
a  week,  in  a  licensed  place  of  Devotion  in  the  Capital 
of  the  Kingdom.  A  matter  so  much  to  the  disgrace 
of  Society,  that  They,  on  whom  the  scandal  fell, 
thought  proper  to  give  out,  that  a  vigorous  prosecu 
tion  of  this  Offender  was  ordered  to  be  commenced  ; 
but  that  when  it  was  known,  the  Dissenters  took  the 
alarm,  as  if  the  Law  of  Toleration  was  in  danger, 
since  this  Impostor  acted  under  the  common  protec 
tion  of  a  Licence  from  Hicks  s  Hall. 

Yet,  whoever  hindered  the  prosecution,  could  not 
but  confess,  that  this  was  a  very  vile  abuse  of  a  most 
sacred  Law :  They  could  not  but  apprehend  that  for 

an 


Chap.  L]  OF   GRACE.  419 

an  abused  Law  to  screen  the  Abuser  from  punish 
ment,  was  making  Law  to  EXECUTE  itself,  in  a  very 
different  sense  from  what  crafty  Politicians  have  some 
times  projected. 

But  from  all  that  has  been  here  said  in  behalf  of 
the  Law  of  Toleration,  let  me  not  be  understood  as 
if  I  could  suppose,  or  would  insinuate,  that  this  Law 
has  altered  the  nature  of  the  crime  going  under  the 
name  of  SCHISM,  which  is  an  unnecessary  separation 
from  the  national  Church;  or,  because  it  hath  taken 
all  civil  punishment  from  the  offender,  that  therefore 
Schism  is  become  harmless,  and  an  empty  name: 
and  that  the  Law  in  favour  of  Schismatics,  like  the 
law  in  favour  of  WITCHES,  had  dissipated  only  a 
frightful  Phantom.  It  is  true,  that,  in  both  Cases, 
the  Legislature  acted  for  the  same  end,  the  restraint 
of  injustice;  but  it  was  on  very  different  principles: 
In  the  first  case,  they  took  off  civil  punishment  from 
a  real  crime,  not  cognizable  by  a  human  Judicatory: 
and,  in  the  latter,  they  removed  an  opprobrium  from 
the  Statute  Book,  which  expressed  a  sanguinary  re 
sentment  against  an  imaginary  one. 

Schism,  or  a  causeless  separation  from  the  national 
Church,  is  a  crime,  which,  on  all  the  principles  of 
Law  and  Reason,  deserves  condign  punishment.  But, 
of  this  separation,  whether  with  or  without  cause, 
there  is  no  adequate  Judge,  but  that  Power  who  can 
distinguish  between  a  well  and  an  ill-informed  Con 
science.  Very  justly  therefore  did  this  Free  Govern 
ment  remit  the  question  to  a  wiser  Tribunal.  But 
in  so  doing  it  did  not  mitigate,  but,  by  its  indulgence, 
rather  aggravate  the  Guilt,  whurevt-r  it  shall  be  tbund, 
hereafter,  to  exist.  And  how  wisely  so  doubtful  a 
point  was  remitted  thither,  we  may,  in  part,  see  from 
the  answer  of  the  foreign  Divines,  to  whose  judgment, 
E  £  2  at 


420  THE   DOCTRINE       [Book  III. 

at  the  beginning  of  our  Reformation  (when  the  quarrel 
between  the  Puritans  and  the  Churchmen  about  Cere 
monies  and  Discipline  ran  high),  both  Parties  agreed 
to  submit.  Those  prudent  and  honest  men,  when 
thus  appealed  unto,  gave  it  as  their  opinion,  that 
fl  the  Puritans  ought  to  conform,  rather  than  make  a 
schism ;  and  that  the  Churchmen  ought  to  indulge  the 
others'  scruple,  rather  than  hazard  one."  A  wise  de 
cision,  and  reaching  much  further,  in  religious  mat 
ters,  than  to  the  single  case  to  which  it  was  applied. 

Schism  therefore  is  no  less  a  crime  now,  that  the 
Law  consigns  over  its  punishment  to  a  proper  Judi 
cature,  than  it  was  when  civil  Authority,  blindly  and 
ineffectually,  interfered  to  vindicate  the  honour  of  Re 
ligion  from  this  unhappy  scandal. 

Thus  have  we  seen  what  reputation  accrues  to  the 
Church  of  England,  from  the  establishment  of  this 
inestimable  Law7 ;  and  what  benefits  may  further  accrue 
to  it  by  the  prudent  conduct  of  our  Clergy,  in  its 
support. 


CHAP.    II. 

WHAT  remains  of  my  Subject,  will  be  more 
particularly  addressed  to  the  Ministers  of  Religion : 
who  are  surrounded  with  Enemies  from  various  quar 
ters;  and  insulted  both  by  the  attacks  of  INFIDELITY 
and  FANATICISM. 

Their  defence,  therefore,  is  indeed  of  necessity  to 
be  as  much  diversified ;  but  it  should  still  be  under 
the  safe  conduct,  and  with  the  simple  Armour  of 
TRUTH  only.  For  it  is  not  the  honour  of  a  fantastic 
Sect  of  Philosophy  which  We  are  intrusted  to  sup 
port; 


Chap.  II.]  OF  GRACE.  421 

port;  better  committed  to  the  care  of  those  who 
exercise  the  talents  of  its  old  Patrons,  the  SOPHISTS; 
neither  is  it  the  credit  of  a  Traditional  Orthodoxy, 
which,  some  of  those  who  are  called  FATHERS  of  the 
Church  have,  of  old,  defended  with  the  like  arts  and 
arms  :  But  it  is  the  simple  GOSPEL  of  JESUS,  equally 
abhorrent  of  refinement  and  deceit. 

I  cannot,  nor  indeed  have  I  any  just  reason  to 
suspect,  that  the  English  Clergy  will  dishonour  so 
noble  a  Cause  by  any  premeditated  fraud.  Yet 
the  most  Upright,  in  the. heat  of  controversy  (pro 
voked,  and  perhaps  alarmed  at  the  extravagant 
powers  which  Libertines  and  Fanatics  reciprocally 
ascribe  to  REASON  and  to  GRACE),  have  been  but 
too  apt  to  run  into  destructive  extremes,  depreciating, 
and  even  annihilating,  sometimes  the  One,  and  some 
times  the  Other,  as  best  served  the  purpose  they  were 
then  pursuing.  Of  which  egregious  lolly,  their  Ad 
versaries  have  never  failed  to  take  advantage,  by 
turnin^  their  own  ill-fashioned  and  worse-fabricated 

O 

Arms  against  them.  And  this  was  easily  done ;  since 
Revealed  Religion  derives  its  whole  support  from  the 
joint  operation  of  these  two  Principles,  Reason  and 
Grace,  acting  on  the  human  mind  witli  equal  and  un- 
remitted  vigour. 

But  to  understand  more  sensibly  the  mischiefs 
arising  from  such  ill-judged  detcnces  of  Religion,  I 
shall  set  before  the  Reader  a  capital  Example  of  each 
of  these  EXTREMES,  of  which  we  are  now  speaking. 
From  whence  we  may  learn  the  use  and  necessity  of 
keeping  within  that  equal  MEAN,  which  most  effec 
tually  serves  .to  detect  and  to  expose  the  errors  of 
either  Adversary. 

It  hath  ever  been  amongst  the  principal  arts  of 
Infidelity  to  make  the  most  extravagant  encomiums 

E  E  3  on 


423  THE   DOCTRINE        [Book  III. 

on  HUMAN   REASON;  and,   consequently,   to  profess 
the  utmost  regard  and  reverence  for,  what  Unbelievers 
are  pleased  to  call,  NAI  r  u  ^  L  RELIGION.    Under  this 
cover,  by  the  poorest  sophistry  and  hypocrisy  imagin 
able,  they  have  accustomed  themselves  to  undermine 
REVELATION.      But  now,  What  expedient,  think  you, 
did  some  warm  defenders  of  Revelation  employ  to 
uphold  its  credit  ?  You  will  naturally  say,  they  took 
care  to  moderate  the  extravagant  representations  of 
these  false  friends  of  Reason  and  natural  Religion ;  by 
marking  out  the  just  bounds  of  the  human  Faculties, 
and  shewing,  how  far  Reason  extends  her  jurisdiction, 
and   in  what  she  herself  prescribes  submission:    by 
explaining  how  necessary  a  foundation  natural  Religion 
*  s      is  to  the  Revealed-,  how  it  coincides  with  it,  is  com 
pleted  by  it,  and  so  inseparably  annexed  to  it  (as  the 
foundation  to  its  superstructure)  that  nothing  can  hurt 
the  One  which  does  not  injuriously  affect  the  Other ; 
there  being  no  objection,  which  the  Logic  of  misapplied 
Reason  can  bring  against  Revealed  Religion^  which 
does  not   hold    at   least   equally   strong   against   the 
Natural. 

This  they  did,  you  say,  because  This  they  ought  to 
have  done.    Alas !  they  took  a  very  different  course. 
They  declaimed  against  human  Reason;  they  depressed 
it  as  extravagantly  as  their  Adversaries  had  advanced 
it.—"  Should  you  be  so  foolish,  they  told  you,   as  to 
take  it  for  your  Guide,   it  would  lead  you  to  nothing 
but  to  sin  and  misery :  that  the  Gospel  disclaimed  it, 
and  went  entirely  on  the  surer  ground  of  FAITH  :  that 
its  confessed  impotency  in  defence  of  truths  revealed, 
may  shew  the  absurdity  of  relying  on  it  to  discover 
truths  unrevealed"    Hence,  they  assured  you,   "  that 
the  Deists  boasted  System  of  natural  Religion  was  a 
Chimera;  and  that  what  (under  this  name)  they  re 
commended 


Chap.  II.]  OF    GRACE.  423 

commended  to  the  adoration  of  their  followers,  was  an 
Impostor,  made  up  of  just  so  much  of  the  revealed  as 
was  of  use  to  them  in  combating  the  rest:"  Finally, 
they  said,  "  that  all  religious  knowledge  of  the  Deity, 
and  of  man's  relation  to  him,  was  revealed;  and  had 
descended  traditionally  down  (though  broken  and  dis 
jointed  in  so  long  a  passage)  from  thcjirst  Man ;  who 
received  it  as  he  came  out  fresh  from  the  forming 
hands  of  his  Creator." 

When  our  Enemies  had  gotten  these  indiscreet 
friends  of  Revelation  at  this  advantage,  they  changed 
the  attack,  (for  all  Arms  are  indifferent  to  themt  but 
in  proportion  to  their  present  power  of  doing  mischief) 
and  now  tried,  how  Revelation  was  to  be  further 
shaken,  on  these  new  and  extravagant  principles  of  its 
Defenders. 

I.  Accordingly  a  certain  masked  Buffoon  undertook 
to  turn  one  part  of  this  Paradox  against  them,  in  a 
Discourse  to  prove  that  REVEL  ATI  ox  WAS  NOT 
FOUNDED  ox  ARGUMENT;  and  tempered  his  irony 
with  so  grave  and  solemn  a  tone,  that  many  good  men 
mistook  this  arch-enemy  of  all  godliness  to  be,  at  worst, 
but  an  over-warm  promoter  of  it.  He  had  two  ends 
in  this  worthy  attempt ;  the  one,  to  discredit  Religion  ; 
the  other,  to  excite  and  encourage  Fanatics  to  discredit 
it  still  more. 

A  fairer  Writer  against  Religion,  because  a  more 
open,  took  up  the  oilier  part  of  the  Paradox,  with  the 
same  righteous  design.  And  as  the  Buffoon  had  un 
dertaken  to  shew  that  Revealed  Religion  was  not 
founded  in  argument,  so  the  Declaimer  *  sets  himself 
to  prove  that  natural  Religion  ivas  not  founded  in 
common  Sense :  for,  its  existence  depending  on  the  moral 
attributes  of  the  Deity,  his  just  ice  and  goodness,  this 

*  Lord  Bolingbroke. 

E  E  4  broacher 


424  THE    DOCTRINE        [Book  III. 

broacher  of  the  last  runnings  of  the  FIRST  PHILOSO 
PHY  labours  to  shew  ihat  justice  and  goodness  belong 
not  to  him,  whose  entire  essence  consists  in  the  natural 
attributes  of  wisdom  and  power  only.  Hence,  under 
the  name  of  natural  Religion,  he  slurs  in  upon  us  an 
irreligious  NATURALISM.  And  now  Revelation,  de 
prived  oTTtnoundation,  natural  Religion,  and  of  its 
best  defence  and  ornament,  human  Reason,  lies  a 
scorn  to  Unbelievers,  and  a  prey  to  Fanatics  and 
Enthusiasts. 

But  all  this  hath  not  yet  taught  these  wayward 
Divines,  wisdom.  We  have  lately  seen  them,  even  at 
the  Fountain  of  Science,  the  University  *,  attempting 
to  support  in  good  earnest  the  wretched  paradox  which 

Mr. -  had  so  mischievously  advanced  in  jest.    And 

yet  one  should  be  utterly  at  a  loss  to  guess  in  what  the 
wit  or  wisdom  of  it  lay,  whether  advanced  in  earnest 
or  in  jest.     But  a  mischievous  Heart  will  at  any  time 
risk  the  reputation  of  its  head-piece  to  give  the  alarm 
to  sober  piety ;   and  a  warm  Head  discloses,  without 
fear  or  wit/  the  rancour  of  its  bosom,  to  vilify  and 
bespatter  superior  Reason.    Otherwise,  to  ask,  Whether 
Christianity  was  founded  in  Reason  or  in  Faith,  would 
be  deemed  just  as  wise  a  question  as  Whether  St. 
PauVa  Clock  was  founded  in  Mechanism  or  in  Motion? 
1  Since,  if  it  be  found  to  b&vejnotfon,  we  necessarily 
conclude  that  motion  to  be  regulated  by  mechanism : 
So,  if  the  vital  principle  of  Christianity  be  Faith,  we 
necessarily  conclude  it  to  be  such  a  Faith,   as  was 
formed,  and  may  be  supported,  on  the  rules  and  prin 
ciples  of  human  Reason.     A   wild  Indian,   perhaps, 
nwht  imagine  that  the  Clock  was  animated  by  a  Spirit; 
and  an  Enthusiast,  still  wilder  than  he,  may,  for  aught 
I  know,  conclude  that  Christianity  rises  only  out  of 

*  Oxford. 

internal 


Chap.  II.]  OF   GRACE.  425 

internal  impulse,    But  surely  none  but  a  Buffoon  or  a 
Fanatic  would,  for  his  credit  in  jest,  or  for  his  interest 
in  good  earnest,  discard  the  ITJC  of  Reason  in  consult 
ing  for   his  future  happiness,   when   he   has    already 
found  it  so  useful  in  procuring  his  present.    Both  the- 
future  and  the  present  are  acquired  by  the  right  adap 
tion,  of  means  to  ends;  and  this  adaption,  I  suppose,          ^j^ 
will  be  confessed  by  all  to  be  in  the  sole  province  of 
RI.ASOX.    Nor  has  this  heaven-appointed  Guide  ever 
given  any  just  cause  of  complaint  or  jealousy.    When 
men  see  themselves  bewildered,  they  ought  to  suspect 
themselves :    and,    I  believe,    on    enquiry,    they  will 
always  find,  that  they  had  been  directing  Reason  when 
they  should  have  been  directed  by  her.     But  the  Pas 
sions  and  Affections,  which  have  occasioned  her  dis 
credit,  go  on,  in  their  illusions,  to  excite  our  distrust. 
II.  Again,  these  indiscreet  friends  of  Religion,  while 
they  were  thus  pushing  the  common  Adversary,  with 
these  imaginary  advantages  gained  by  the  depression 
of  human  reason,  did  not  advert  to  the  mischiefs  they 
were  letting  in,  at  the  opposite  quarters  of  Super 
stition  and  Fanaticism.     POPERY  can  only  stand  and 
flourish  on  the  foundation  of  implicit  faith  ;  and  the 
fervours  of  EXTIIUSI  ASM  soon  rise  into  madness,  when 
unchecked  by  Reason.     The  PRIEST  expects  of  you 
to  renounce  your  Understanding,  before  he  will  under 
take  to  reconcile  you  to  the   Church  of  Pcome ;  but, 
indeed,  when  that  is  over,  he  permits  you  to  take  up 
as  much  of  it  again,  as  will  serve  you  to  justify  your 
Apostasy.    The  quarrel,   which  the  FANATIC  has  to 
it,  is  more  serious.     He  is  ever  feeling  its  ill  effects; 
and  therefore  his  aversion  to  it  is  immortal.    When 
Ignatius  Loyola  was  in  the  Meridian  of  his  Fervours, 
some  of  the  writings  of  Erasmus  chanced  to  fall  into 
his  hands.    He  was  at  first  seduced,  by  the  charms  of 

the 


426  THE    DOCTRINE        [Booklll. 

the  composition,  to  look  into  them ;  but  finding  they 
had,  before  he  was  aware,  insensibly  damped  the  in 
flammation  of  his  Zeal ;   he  cast  them  from  him  with 
abhorrence  and  execration:    The  very  same  disaster, 
Mr.  /.  Wesley  informs  us,  once  befell  himself,  in  his 
converse  with  the  sober  followers  of  Erasmus,  inso 
much  that  he  was  soon  forced,  he  tells  us,  to  avoid 
them,   as  the  bane  of  all  Keligio?i.     "  I  avoid  that 
BANE  OF  ALL  RELIGION,  the  company  of  good  sort 
of  men,  as  they  are  called.    These  insensibly  undermine 
all  my  resolution,  and  steal  away  what  little  ZEAL  I 
have  *."    If  this  be  true,  though  they  steal  but  7 rash, 
yet  they   leave  him  poor   indeed;    as   his   quondam 
Master  has  lately  observed.    "  Your  strictures  upon 
"  Messieurs  of  the  Foundery,  and  the  Tabernacle,  &c. 
"  (says  he  to  a  friend)  are  very  just.     These  gentle- 
"  men  seem  to  have  no  other  bottom  to  stand  upon  but 
"  that  of  ZEAL'|\"    Indeed,  against  so  dangerous  an 
Enemy  as  SOBER  SENSE,  the  Fanatic  cannot  be  too 
carefully  guarded.     And  therefore,   he  never  thinks 
himself  secure  from  the  mischiefs  of  Reason,  till  he 
has,  with  the  same  hoarse  clamours  that  the  meta 
morphosed  Clowns  in  the  Fable  pursued  Latona  and 
her  godlike  Issue;  driven  away  from  the  neighbour 
hood  of  the  Saints,  both  Reason,  and  her  fair  and 
celestial  Offspring,  NATURAL  RELIGION  and  HUMAN 
LEARNING. 

Mr.  J.  WESLEY,  who  is  ready  to  exhibit  to  us  every 
feature  of  Fanaticism  in  its  turn,  has,  I  fear,  been 
kept  so  long  upon  the  Scene,  as  to  tire  out  his 
Audience  ;  he  shall  therefore  be  only  once  again  exhi 
bited,  to  testify,  in  a  word  or  two,  his  civilities  to 
natural  Reason  and  natural  Religion ;  and  then  dis  - 

*  Journ.  from  Aug.  1-2,  1738,  to  Nov.  i,  1739,  p.  31. 
•\  Mr.  W.  Law's  Collection  of  Letters,  &c.  p.  189. 

missed 


Chap.  II.]  OF    GRACE.  427 

missed  for  good.    As  to  the  first,  he  frankly  tells  us, 
the  Father  of  lies  was  the  Father  of  reasonings  also : 
"  I  observed,  (says  he)  every  day  more  and  more,  the 
"  advantage  Satan  had  gained  over  us.     Many  were 
"  thrown  into  idle  reasonings" — And  again,   Many 
"  of  our  Sisters  are  shaken.     Betty  and  Esther  H. 
"  are  grievously  torn  by  reasonings  *." — His  civilities 
to  NATURAL  RELIGION,  and  to  that  eminent  Writer 
who  has  so  well  explained  the  nature  of  this  first  great 
gift  of  God  to  Man,   follow  next :    "  Meeting  with 
"  a  Frenchman  of  New  Orleans  (says  Mr.  Wesley),  he 
"  gave  us  a  full  and  particular  account  of  the  Chica- 
"  saws  : — And  hence  we  could  not  but  remark,  what 
"is  THE  RELIGION  OF  AATi -RE,  properly  so  called, 
"  or  that  Religion  which  flows  from  natural  Reason, 
"  unassisted  by  Revelation"    He  then  speaks  of  their 
manners  in  War. — Their  way  of  living  in  Peace  follows 
in  these  words;  "  They  do  nothing  but  eat  and  drink 
"  and  smoak  from  Morning  till  Night,  and  in  a  manner 
"  from  Night  till  Morning.    For  they  rise  at  any  hour 
"  of  the  night  when  they  wake,  and,  after  eating  and 
"  drinking  as  much  as  they  can,  go  to  sleep  again. 
"  See  THE  RELIGION  OF  NATURE  truly  DELINE- 
"  ATED  f."    What  is  chiefly  curious  in  this  account 
is,  that  Mr.  Wesley  professes  to  shew  us   what  that 
Religion  is  which  is  properly  called  natural,  or  that 
which  flows  from  NATURAL  REASON  unassisted  by 
REVELATION,  and  yet  he  gives  us,  in  its  stead,  only 
man's  natural  manners,  which  flow  not  from  his  reason, 
but  from  his  passions  and  appetites  only ;   in  an  ex 
ample,  where  Reason  may  be  rather  said  to  have  a 
capacity  of  existence  than  actually  to  exist,  as  being 

*  Journ.  from  Nov.  i,  1739,  to  Sept.  3,  1741,  pp.  8  &  17. 
f  Journ.  from   his  embarking  for  Georgia,   to  his  return  to 
London,  pp.  44,  45. 

alike 


428  THE   DOCTRINE        [Book  III. 

alike  inert  and  void  of  power  whether  the  Chicasaw  be 
waking  or  asleep. 

As  to  HUMAN  LEARNING,  if  the  zealous  Mr.  W. 
Law  does  not  assault  this  more  rudely  than  his  forward 
Pupil  has  insulted  NATURAL  RELIGION,  yet  he  re 
turns  much  oftener  to  the  Charge.  The  last  Legacies, 
which  this  bountiful  Gentleman  hath  bestowed  upon 
the  Public,  are  A  Collection  of  Letters,  Sec.  and  An 
Address  to  the  Clergy,  Sec.  In  these  two  Works  the 
hapless  Author  of  the  Divine  Legation  is  pointed  at 
on  every  occasion  of  abuse,  and  held  up  as  the  grand 
Apostate  from  Grace  to  Human  Reason ;  and  this 
chiefly,  for  denying  (what  indeed,  I  neither  deny  nor 
affirm,  for  I  take  it  to  be  nonsense)  Tlmt  "  Divine 
"  Inspiration  is  ESSENTIAL  to  Man's  Jirst  created 
"  state,  and  vainly  thinking  to  find  out  a  middle  'way, 
"  between  this  and  no  inspiration  at  all,  namely,  that 
"  the  Spirit's  ordinary  itifluence  occasionally  assists 
"  the  faithful*''  For  this,  and  for  some  few  things 
besides,  such  as  a  charge  of  Spinozism  on  his  beloved 
Behmenism,  I  have  the  honour  to  be  plentifully,  though 
spiritually  railed  at,  whenever  he  fancies  he  sees  me 
in  the  Retinue  of  HUMAN  LEARNING. 

He  lays  it  down  as  a  Postulatum,  "  That  whatever 
"  comes  not  IMMEDIATELY  from  GOD,  can  have  no- 
"  thing  godly  in  it.  Therefore  what  comes  IMMEDI- 
"  ATELY  from  SELF,  such  as  NATURAL  REASON, 
"  however  outwardly  coloured,  can  have  no  better  a 
"  nature  within  than  the  very  Works  of  the  DEVIL.'* 

p.  57. 

Now   the   fruit  of  natural  reason  being  HUMAN 

LEARNING  (indeed,  according  to  this  account,  more 
properly  than  men  were  aware  of,  called  profane 
Learning) ;  he  thus  descants  upon  it. 

•  See  pp.  12  &  25  of  the  Address  to  the  Clergy. 

Tirst 


Chap.  II.]  OF   GRACE.  429 

First  of  all,  he  assures  us,  it  has  nothing  to  do  with 
Religion.  "  Where  can  God's  Kingdom  be  come,  but 
"  where  every  other  power,  but  his,  is  at  an  end,  and 
"  driven  out  ? — What  now  have  Parts  and  Literature 
"  and  the  natural  Abilities  of  man  to  do  here  ?  just  as 
"  much  as  they  can  do  at  the  Resurrection  of  the  dead ; 
"  for  all  that  is  to  be  done  here  is  nothing  else  but 
"  Resurrection  and  Life.*—  Yet  vain  man  would  be 
"  thought  to  do  something  in  this  kingdom  of  Grace — 
"  because  he  has  happened  to  be  made  a  Scholar,  has 
"run  through  all  the  Languages  and  Histories,  has 
"  been  long  exercised  in  conjectures  and  criticisms,  and 
"  has  his  head  full  of  all  notions,  theological,  poetical, 
"  and  philosophical,  as  a  Dictionary  is  full  of  all  sorts 
"  of  words.  Now  let  this  simple  question  decide  the 
"  whole  matter  here :  Has  this  great  Scholar  any  more 
"  power  of  saying  to  this  mountain,  Be  thou  removed 
11  hence  and  cast  into  the  Sea,  than  the  illiterate  Chris- 
"  tian  hath?"  pp.  96,  97.  To  this  reasoning  against 
human  Learning,  in  its  use  to  Religion,  little  can  be 
opposed.  For  it  is  very  certain  human  Learning  can 
neither  raise  the  Dead,  nor  remove  Mountains. 

But  it  is  not  only  useless  in  Religion,  but  is  of 
infinite  mischief. 

For  i.  It  nourisheth  PRIDE.  "  The  piercing  Critic 
"  may,  and  naturally  will,  grow  in  pride,  as  fast  as  his 
"  skill  in  words  discovers  itself.  And  'every  hind  of 
<c  knowledge  that  shews  the  Orator,  the  Disputer,  the 
"  Commentator,  the  Historian,  his  own  powers  and 
"  abilities,  are  the  same  temptation  to  him  that  Eve 
"  had  from  the  serpent/'  &c.  Lett.  p.  187. 

2.  It  nouiisheth  Contention. — "  Grammar,  I^ogic 
"  and  Criticism,  each  knoweth  nothing  of  Scripture 
"  but  its  words ;  bringeth  forth  nothing  but  its  own 
"  wisdom  of  words,  and  a  Religion  of  wrangle,  hatred, 

"  and 


430  THE    DOCTRINE       [Book  III. 

"  and  contention  about  the  meaning  of  them."    Ad 
dress,  p.  122. 

3.  It  turneth   Religion  to  a  trade. — "  Where  self, 
"  or  the  natural  man  is  become  great  in  religious 
"  Learning,  there,  the  greater  the  Scholar,  the  more 
"  firmly  will  he  be  fixed  in  their  Religion,  whose  God 
"  is  their  belly"   p.  59. 

4.  It  is  the  abomination  of  desolation. — "  Genius 
"  and  Learning  entered  into  the  pale  of  the  Church 
<c  — Behold,   if  ever,   the  abomination  of  desolation 
"  standing  in  the  holy  place. — Christ  has  no  where 
"  spoken  one  single  word,  or  given  the  least  potver  to 
"  Logic,  Learning,  or  the  natural  powers  of  man  IN 
"  HIS  KINGDOM.'*    p.  114.     By  this,  we  find,  that 
CHRIST'S    KINGDOM   may  be  usurped   as   well  by 
classic  Learning  as  by  CHURCH  DISCIPLINE.     It 
is  certain,  our  modern  ideas  of  religious  Liberty  can 
consist  with  neither  of  them,  for  this  Liberty  claims  an 
exemption  both  from  REASON  and  OBEDIENCE. 

5.  It  chuseth  darkness  rather  than  light. — "  But 
"  now,  Who  can  more  reject  this  divine  light"  [i.  e. 
the  light  of  the  world,  re-illuminated  by  the  blessed 
Jacob,  as  he  calls  him]   "  or  more  plainly  choose  dark- 
le  ness  instead  of  it,  than  he  who  seeks  to  have  his 
"  mind  enriched,  the  faculties  of  his  fallen  soul  culti- 
"  vated,  by  the  literature  of  Poets,   Orators,  Philoso- 
"  pliers,  Sophists,  Sceptics,  and  Critics,  born  and  bred 
"  up  in  the  worship  and  praises  of  Idol  Gods  and 
"  Goddesses?" 

6.  Finally,  it  is  a  total  Apostasy  from  God  and 
Goodness. — "  The  practice  of  all  Churches  for  many 
*'  ages,  has  had  recourse  to  Learning,  Art,  and  Sci- 
"  ence,  to  qualify  Ministers  for  the  preaching  of  the 
*'  Gospel — To  this  more  than  to  any  other  cause,  is  the 
"  great  Apostasy  of  all  Christendom  to  be  attributed. 

"  —The 


Chap.  II.]  OF    GRACE.  431 

'  — The  death  of  all  that  is  good  in  the  Soul,  have 
"  now  and  always  had  their  chief  nourishment  and 
u  support  from  the  sense  of  the  merit  and  sufficiency  of 
"  literal  accomplishments — And  the  very  life  of  Jesus 
"  in  the  Soul  is  by  few  people  less  earnestly  desired, 
"  or  more  hard  to  be  practised,  than  by  great  Wits, 
u  Classical-Criticsy  Linguists,  Historians,  and  Orators 
"  in  holy  orders."  (Lett.  p. 37.)— And  again— "This 
"  empty  letter-learned  knowledge,  which  the  natural 
"  man  can  as  easily  have  of  the  Sacred  Scripture  and 
"  human  matters,  as  of  any  other  books  or  human 
"  affairs,  this  being  taken  for  divine  knowledge  has 
"  spread  such  darkness  and  delusion  all  over  Chris- 
"  tendom,  as  may  be  reckoned  no  less  than  a  GENERAL 
<c  APOSTASY  from  the  Gospel  state  of  divine  illumi- 
"  nation"  (Address,  p.  94.) 

We  see  by  this,  that  the  grand  mistake  of  Scholars 
has  hitherto  been,  in  supposing,  that  the  true  sense  of 
Scripture  is  to  be  discovered  by  the  application  of  those 
Principles  which  enable  us  to  find  out  the  meaning  con 
tained  in  other  ancient  Books. 

And  now  the  good  man  having  worked  up  his  enthu 
siasm  into  a  poetical  ferment  (for,  as  it  has  been  said, 
that  a  Poet  is  an  Enthusiast  in  jest,  so,  he  shews  us, 
that  an  Enthusiast  may  be  a  Poet  in  good  earnest)  he 
adorns  these  powerful  reasonings  with  a  string  of  as 
beauteous  Similes,  in  discredit  of  human  Learning. 

i.  It  is  compared  to  the  fall  of  man. — "  Look 
"  (says  he)  at  the  present  state  of  Christendom,  glory- 
"  ing  in  the  light  of  Greek  and  Roman  Learning,  and 
"  you  will  see  the  fall  of  the  present  Church  from  its 
"first  Gospel-state,  to  iiave  much  likeness  to  they*/// 
"  of  the  first  divine  man,  from  the  glory  of  paradisiacal 
"  innocence,  and  heavenly  purity,  into  an  earthly  state 

"  and 


432  THE   DOCTRINE        [Book III. 

"  and  bestial  life  of  worldly  craft  and  serpentine  sub- 
tilty."  p.  98. 

2.  It  is  directly  compared  to  the  old  Serpent — • 
"  What  a  poverty  of  sense  in  such,  to  set  themselves 
"  down  at  the  feet  of  a  Master  Tully,  and  a  Master 
"  Aristotle !  who  only  differ  from  the  meanest  of  all 
<f  other  corrupt  men,  as  the  teaching  Serpent  differed 
"  from  his  fellow -animals,  by  being  more  subtle  than 
"  all  the  beasts  of  the  fold?    pp.  1 39,  140. 

3.  It  is   compared  to  the  Tower  of  Babel — "  A 
"  Tower  of  Babel  may,  to  its  builders' eyes,  seem  to 
"  hide  its  head  in  the  clouds ;  but  as  to  its  reaching  of 
"  Heaven,  it  is  no  nearer  to  that  than  the  earth  on 
"  which  it  stands.    It  is  thus  with  all  the  buildings  of 
'c  Man's  wisdom — He  may  take  the  logic  of  Aristotle, 
"  add  to  that  the  rhetoric  of  Tully,  and  then  ascend  as 
"  high  as  he  can  on  the  ladder  of  Poetic  imagination, 
"  yet  no  more  is  done  to  the  reviving  the  lost  life  of 
"God  in   his  Soul,   than  by  a  Tower  of  Brick  and 
"  Mortar,  to  reach  Heaven/'    p.  104. 

4.  Again,  it  is  compared  to  Idolatry — "  What  is  it 
"  that  most  of  all  hinders  the  death  of  the  old  man  ? — 
"  It  is  the  fancied  riches  of  Parts,  the  glitter  of  genius, 

'  o  O  ' 

<c  the  flights  of  imagination,  the  glory  of  Learning, 
"  and  the  self- conceited  strength  of  natural  Reason: 
"  these  are  the  strong  holds  of  fallen  nature,  the 
"  Master-builders  of  Prides  Temple,  and  which,  as  so 
"  many  Priests,  keep  up  the  daily  worship  of  IDOL 

Sc£LF."    p.  110. 

But,  now  his  poetical  Enthusiasm  has  blazed  itself 
out ;  and  he  comes  again  to  himself. — We  know  how 
the  lucid  intervals  of  a  Fanatic  are  wont  to  be  em 
ployed  ;  generally  in  covering  the  madness  of  the  Hot 
fit  with  the  most  deliberate  and  unblushing  falsehoods 
of  the  Cold. 

From 


Chap.  II. ]  OF   GRACE. 

From  what  hath  past,  rash  Divines  might  be  apt  to 
charge  this  holy  man,  so  meek  of  Spirit,   with  Enthu 
siasm, — with  a  brutal  spite  to  Rwm,—\\\\&  with  more 
than  Vandalic  rage  against  human  Learning.    IJut  they 
wrong  him  greatly,    i.  As  to  Enthusiasm,  he  sav.;, — 
'  What  an  argument  would  this  be ;  Enthusiasts  have 
"  tmde  a  bad  use  of  the  doctrine  of  being  led  by  the 
"  Spirit  of  God;    ergo,    He   is   Enthusiast  leal  who 
"  preaches  up  the  doctrine  of  being  led  by  the  spirit 
"  of  God.     Now  absurd  as  this  is,  was  any  of  my  Ao 
"  coders,  as  high  in  Genius,  as  bulky  in  Learning,  as 
'''  Colossus  was  in  Stature,  he  would  be  at  a  loss  to 
cc  bring  a  stronger  argument  than  this  to  prove  me  an 
:(  Enthusiast,  or  an  abettor  of  them."   p.  .51.    This  is 
plainly  unanswerable,  unless  you  read,  as  his  Accuser 
wrote  it,  for — who  preaches  up  the  doctrine  —  who 
ABUSIVELY  preaches  up  the  doctrine. 

2.  "  Another  Charge  (says  he)  upon  me,   equally 
"  false,  and,  I  may  say,  more  senseless,  is,  that  I  am  a 
"declared  Enemy  to  the  use  of  Reason  in  Religion. 
And,  why  ?  Because  in  all  my  writings  I  teach  that 
'  Reason  is  to  be  denied.    I  own  it,  and  this,   because 
"  Christ  has  said,  Whoever  mil  come  after  me,  let  him 
"  deny  himself.    For  how  can  a  man  duty  himself  with- 
"  out  denying  his  reason,  unless  reason  be  no  port  of 
"himself?"    p.  .52.    Now  I  am  at   a  loss  to  know, 
How  any  one  can  become  an  enemy  to  another  more 
declared,   than  by  denying  or  renouncing  that  other. 
Were  I  to  deny  my  Sovereign,  I  should  be  soon  taught 
to  know,  that  he  considered  me  as  his  enemy,  and 
would  probably  treat  me  accordingly.    But  Sovereign- 
Reason  has  no  Attorney-General,  unless  perhaps,  it 
be  that  Colossus  he  speaks  of,  and  so  loudly  defies. — 
However,   if  human  Reason  can  argue  no  better  than 
Mr.  Law,  I  am  ready  to  deny  her  too.—- Fur,  a  Man's 
VOL.  VIII.  F  s  sdj\ 


434  THE    DOCTRINE        [Book  III. 

*elf,  I  have  been  taught,  has  a  two-fold  acceptation  ; 
his  Reason  may  be  called,  himself,  and  so  may  his 
Passions.  If  therefore  he  be  commanded  to  deny  him- 
self]  I  should  conclude,  it  was  not  his  better  self,  his 
Reason,  but  the  worse,  his  Passions,  to  which  the  divine 
Command  refers. 

3.  Then  as  to  human  Learning,  the  Charge,  he  tells 
us,  is  -^  false  and  senseless  as  the  rest—"  Shew  me  a 
"  Scholar  as  full  of  learning  as  the  Vatican  is  of  Books, 
"  and  he  will  be  just  as  likely  to  give  all  that  he  hath 
"  for  the  Gospel-Pearl,  as  he  would  be,  if  he  was  as 
"  rich  as  Croesus.  LET  NO  ONE  HERE  IMAGINE  I 

44  AM    WRITING  AGAINST  ALL  HUMAN  LITERATURE, 

44  arts,  and  sciences,  or  that  1  wish  the  World  to  be 
"  without  them.     /  am  no  more  an  Enemy  to  them, 
"  than  to  the  common  useful   labours  of  life.    It  is 
"  literal  Learning,  verbal  contention,  and  critical  strife 
"  about  the  things  of  God  that  I  charge  with  folly,  and 
"  mischief  to    Religion.      And,    in    this,    I    have    aH 
"  learned  Christendom,  both  Popish  and   Protestant, 
e;  on  my  side ;  for  they  both  agree  in  charging  each 
"  other,  with  a  bad  and  false  Gospel-state,  because  of 
"  that,   which  their  Learning,  Logic,  and  Criticism  do 
<4  for  them."    p.  151.    There  arc  no  such  proficients  in 
sophistry  as  the  declared  enemies  of  Reason ;  nor  any 
so  dexterous  in  legerdemain  as  the  merest  bunglers  in 
Mechanics. — He  is   not  an   Enemy,   he  tells  us,   to 
tinman  literature,  but  to  literal  learning  only :  That 
is,  he  approves  of  Learning  contained  in  Letters,  but 
not  of  Letters  contained  in  Learning.    The  truth  is,  he 
\vould  willingly  in  this  distress  take  shelter,   did  he 
know  how,   even  in  the  graceless  company  of  Men  of 
Taste;    who,  like  him,    to   hide  their  ignorance,  are 
always  scofiing  at  the  Pedantry  of  Literal  learning  and 
.wlxif  criticism    \\i\h  the  same  good  sense  that  an 

Artificer 


Chap.  II.]  OF    GRACE.  43, 

•Artificer  abuses  those  Tools  of  his  trade  which  he 
knows  not  how  to  work  with.— Again,  do  Popish  and 
Protestant  Disputers  ever  say  to  one  another— .Tew 
support  (i  bad  and  false  Gospel  by  Learning,  Look', 
and  Criticism  ?  Do  not  their  reciprocal  accusations 
of  one  another's  errors  turn  upon  the  WANT  of  Learn 
ing,  Logic,  and  Criticism  ?  Or  was  Mr.  Law,  indeed, 
so  ignorant  as  he  pretends,  when  he  supposes  there  are 
now  two  Kinds  of  Learning,  Logic,  and  Criticism,  a 
Popish  and  a  Protestant;  instead  of  one,  founded  and 
perfected  on  Principles,  held  by  both  Parties  in  com 
mon  ?— All  that  they,  charge  on  one  another  is  the 
abuse  of  these  Principles. 

But  to  draw  towards  an  end  with  this  furious  Beh- 
menist— In  all  this  ribaldry,  the  only  chance  he  has  of 
misleading  illiterate  and  weak  Mortals,  is  by  the  re 
peated  insinuations,  that  all  religious  dissensions  are 
owing  to  these  mischief-makers,  Reason  and  Human 
learning-,  and  that,  in  their  absence,  there  is  a  perfect 
accord  in  Religion.  But  this  is  the  fancy  of  none  but 
Bards  or  Enthusiasts ;  who  never  saw,  but  in  poetic* 
or  ecstatic  Visions,  that  time  when 

"  Christians  and  Jews  one  heavy  Sabbath  kept; 
"  And  all  the  Western  World  bclicv'd  and  slept." 

Before  mortals  either  zrrit  or  read,  the  quarrels  of 
Dunces  were  as  fierce  as  those  of  Wits.  In  Religion, 
the  dissensions  amongst  the  irrational  Sects  have  ever 
been  as  implacable  as  those  amongst  the  Rational. 
And  itj  in  those  miserable  conflicts,  the  wounds  of  the 
latter  went  deeper,  it  was  because  their  force  was  greater 
and  their  weapons  better. 

To  conclude,  When  I  reflect  on  the  wonderful  in 
fatuation  of  this  ingenious  man,  who  has  spent  a  long 
life  in  hunting  after,  and,  with  an  incredible  appetite, 

F  r  a  devouring, 


436  THE   DOCTRINE        [Book  III. 

devouring,  the  trash  dropt  from  every  species  of 
Mysticism,  it  puts  me  in  mind  of  what  Travellers  * 
tell  us  of  a  horrid  Fanaticism  in  the  East,  where  the 
Devotee  makes  a  solemn  vow  never  to  taste  of  other 
food  them  what  has  passed  through  the  entrails  of 
some  impure  or  Savage  Animal.  Hence  their  whole 
lives  are  passed  (like  Mr.  Law's  amongst  his  Ascetics) 
in  Woods  and  Forests,  far  removed  from  the  converse 
of  mankind. 

And  now,  to  turn  back  to  our  FREETHINKER. 
As  professed  an  Adorer  as  he  would  be  thought  of 
his  Sovereign  Mistress,  REASON,  we  shall  see,  that 
the  modern  Infidel,  like  the  Pagans  of  old,  when  their 
Gods  proved  unkind,  aan  himself,  on  occasion,  treat 
his  favourite  IDOL  with  the  utmost  ignominy  and  con 
tempt  ;  for  as  one  of  the  most  ingenuous  of  this  holy 
Brotherhood  has  freely  confessed,  When  Reason  is 
against  a  Man,  a  Man  will  always  be  against  Reason  f. 

They  had  so  long  boasted  of  the  Power  of  this 
their  favourite  Idol,  They  had  so  loudly  trumpeted 
the  virtue  of  her  Orient  beam  for  driving  away  those 
Phantoms  conjured  up  by  Revelation,  in  the  dark  Re 
gions  of  Superstition,  that  the  able  and  sober  Divine 
thought  it  high  time  to  check  their  impertinent  triumphs ; 
and  shew  the  World,  On  which  side  REASON  had 
declared  herself.  In  order  to  this,  they  inferred  and 
illustrated  (defecated  from  the  dross  of  the  SCHOOLS) 
the  invincible  arguments  of  their  Predecessors  in  sup 
port  of  Revelation ;  to  which  they  added  large  and 
noble  accessions  of  their  own.  What  was  now  to  be 
done?  The  Deist  could  not  directly  degrade  that 
Reason  which  he  had  already  inthroned.  Yet  finding 
Her  in  this  service^  he  thought  he  had  a  right  to  in 
sinuate  that  she  was  no  better  than  she  should  be; 
*  Tavernlcr,  f  Hobbef. 

and 


Chap.  II.]  O  F    G  R  A  C  E.  437 

and  had,  like  other  common  Prostitutes,  changed  her 
name,  and  affected  to  be  called  POLEMIC  DIVINITY. 
It  must  be  confessed,  that  the  unguarded  manner 
in  carrying  on  Theologic  controversy  had  subjected  it 
to  much  deserved  censure.  This,  joined  to  the  sort 
of  Learning  employed  in  divers  of  the  more  early 
defences  of  Religion,  where,  both  the  fashion  and 
standard  smelt  strongly  of  the  barbarous  form  and 
base  alloy  of  the  SCHOOLS,  gave  them  a  large  handle 
to  run  down  all  the  defences  that  followed.  Some 
parts  of  POLEMIC  DIVINITY,  appeared,  on  their 
Principles,  to  be  trifling ;  other  parts  bore  hard  upon 
their  Conclusions ;  so  they  took  advantage  of  what 
was  faulty  in  itself,  and  sought  advantage  of  what 
appeared  impertinent  to  them,  to  ridicule  the  whole. 
Hence  Polemic  Divinity  became  the  whetstone  of  their 
wit,  and  the  constant  Butt  of  their  malice.  As  the 
credit  of  Deism  advanced,  this  cant  grew  familiar, 
and  spread  itself  into  the  fashionable  World.  Nor 
could  the  divine  Genius  of  those  Masters  of  Reason, 
a  GROTIUS,  or  an  EPISCOPIUS,  a  HOOKER,  or  a 
CHILLI XG WORTH,  when  once  nick-named  Polemic 
Divines,  hinder  them  from  being  enrolled  amongst 
Scotistx  and  Thomists,  and  the  veriest  rabble  of  the 
Schoolmen,  by  some  of  the  more  ignorant  or  indis 
creet  of  all  Parties.  But  the  thing  most  to  be  la 
mented  is,  to  see  any  well-meaning  Clergyman  of  af 
fected  taste  and  real  ignorance,  go  out  of  his  depth, 
as  well  as  out  of  his  Profession,  to  exert  his  small 
talents  of  ridicule  on  the  same  subject,  merely  for  the 
sake  of  being  in  the  fashion  ;  and,  free  from  all  malice 
as  well  as  wit,  treat  Polcm'tcai  Divinity  (which,  for 
all  the  hard  name,  is  indeed  nothing  but  a  critical 
examination  of  the  doctrines  of  our  Faith)  as  cava 
lierly  as  ever  did  Collins  or  Tindal,  Lords  Shuftsbury 

r  F  3  OK 


438  THE    DOCTRINE        [Book  III. 

or  Bolingbroke.  Yet,  had  these  small-dealers  in 
second-hand  Ridicule  but  the  least  adverted  on  their 
doings,  they  must  have  seen  the  absurdity  as  well  as 
misehicf  of  so  unwcighed  and  wanton  a  conduct. 

Their  ADVERSARIES  had  sufficient  provocation, 
and  were  not  without  a  plausible  pretence  for  their 
quarrel  with  POLEMIC  DIVINITY,  whether  it  were 
employed  in  supporting  Revelation  in  general  against 
the  common  Enemy,  or  in  defending  the  Gospel-truths 
against  .the  errors  of  Sectaries. 

The  PROVOCATION  they  had  received  was  not 
small.  The  Friends  of  Revelation  having  a  Religion 
to  defend,  which  \yas  founded  on  the  Authority  of  a 
Divine  Messenger,  who  appealed  to  Miracles  per 
formed,  and  to  Prophecies  fulfilled,  They  supposed 
the  most  simple  and  natural  method  was  to  prove  the 
truth  of  this  Religion,  as  all  other  human  transactions 
are  proved,  by  FACTS.  This  was  at  length  so  in 
vincibly  performed,  that  their  Enemies  were  forced 
to  have  recourse  to  their  favourite  Deity,  REASON, 
to  undo  the  knot,  and  free  them  from  their  Embarras. 
Her  power,  they  had  long  objected  to  believers,  as 
the  only  barrier  against  Superstition ;  and  now  was 
the  time  to  press  it  home.  "  You  urge  us  \\\\\\  facts, 
say  they,  and  the  testimony  of  Antiquity,  Supports 
too  slender  to  bear  the  unnatural  load  of  Revelation. 
A  thing  impossible  in  itself,  as  it  contradicts  the  esta 
blished  order  of  Providence  :  a  thing  impossible  under 
the  Bible-  representation  of  it,  as  several  passages  in 
that  Book  directly  oppose  our  common  notices  of  God's 
Attributes.  \Vouid  you  have  us  give  credit  to  your 
fond  notions  of  Revelation,  let  us  see  you  support  it 
on  our  common  principles  of  Philosophy,  natural, 
dialectic,  arid  metaphysical.  When  you  have  done 
this,  we  shall  be  satisfied,  for  on  these  principles  only 

wijl 


Chap.  II.]  OF   GRACE.  439 

will  REASON  allow  us  to  submit."  This  was  what 
they  pretended  to  expect;  and  Divines  took  them  at 
their  word ;  and  immediately  entered  upon,  and  soon 
completed  a  defence  of  Revelation,  on  this  new  pre 
scribed  method  of  proof.  How  effectually,  the  pre 
varication  of  their  Adversaries,  of  which  I  am  going 
to  speak,  amply  evinces.  For  no  sooner  was  that 
done  which  they  had  so  vainly  represented  as  im 
possible,  than  they  changed  their  tone,  and  now  at 
tempted  to  ridicule  it  as  a  very  impertinent  achieve 
ment.  "  It  is  astonishing  (says  the  Goliah  of  their 
"  party)  how  Divines  could  take  so  much  silly  pains 
"  to  establish  mystery  on  metaphysics,  revelation  on 
"  philosophy,  and  matters  of  fact  on  abstract  Reason- 
"  ing.  Religion,  such  as  the  Christian,  which  ap- 
"  peals  to  facts,  must  be  proved  as  all  other  tacts 
"  that  pass  for  authentic  are  proved.  If  they  are 
"  thus  proved,  the  Religion  will  prevail  without  the 
"  assistance  of  so  much  profound  Reasoning*."  This 
was  what  the  learned  Divine  got  for  his  pains  !  not 
only  to  have  his  Compliance  lunched  at,  but,  what  is 
the  common  attendant  on  Ridicule,  to  have  it  falsi 
fied.  Divines,  we  see,  are  represented  as  applying 
their  metaphysics,  philosophy,  and  .profound  reasoning, 
to  Prophecies,  on^  iM trades.  I  low  gross  the  misre 
presentation  !  They  had  more  wit,  they  had  more 
honesty,  than  to  take  that  silly  pains.  They  employed 
their  Philosophy  as  became  such  Masters  of  Reason, 
not  to  matters  of 'fact,  but  of  right.  It  was  pretended 
that  God  could  not  give  a  Revelation;  that  he  could 
not  select  a  Chosen  People ;  that  he  could  not  accept 
a  vicarious  Atonement :  And  against  these  bold  asser 
tions,  the  Christian  Divine  directed  all  the  force  and 

•  Lortf  Colin  gbroke's  Letters  concerning  the  Study  and  Use  of 

History, 

j  r  4  evidence 


440  THE   DOCTRINE        [Book  III. 

evidence  of  TRUE  PHILOSOPHY.  With  what  success, 
a.  better  posterity  shall  tell  with  gratitude.  This  is 
the  spite,  I  meant,  which  Unbelievers  bear  to  that 
part  of  Polemic  Divinity,  which  concerns  the  Being 
and  Nature  of  Revelation. 

The  PLAUSIBLE  PRETENCE  they  had  to  ridicule 
and  contemn  the  rest,  which  is  employed  in  settling 
and  adjusting  the  various  MODES  of  Religion,  comes 
next  to  bt>  considered.  These  men  holding  Religion 
itself  to  be  visionary  and  fantastic,  laughed,  and  na 
turally  enough,  to  see  such  a  bustle  made  about  its 
modes ;  which,  on  their  ideas,  was  a  dispute,  about  a 
Nothing  once  removed. 

But  now,  to  see  the  Friends  of  Revelation  disposed 
to  laugh  with  them,  and  to  ridicule  either  one  or  other 
of  these  pans  of  Polemic  Divinity,  is  not  amongst 
the  least  of  those  absurd  perversities,  in  which  common 
life,  at  present,  so  much  abounds.  For  is  that  which 
makes  our  Hope  not  ashamed,  and  supports  the  Faith 
which  is  counted  for  righteousness,  is  that,  1  say,  the 
natural,  the  reasonable  object  of  a  Christian  mans 
contempt?  But  as  this  latter  part  is  more  generally 
known  by  the  name  of  Polemic  Divinity,  and  is  the 
more  usual  topic  of  fashionable  ridicule,  it  may  be 
proper  to  add  a  word  or  two  on  the  extreme  folly  of 
imitating  t«he  airs  of  our  Adversaries,  on  this  occasion. 
We  have  observed  that  the  Freethinker  was  not  with 
out  some  excuse  in  laughing  at  this  part  of  religious 
Controversy :  since,  on  his  ideas,  it  was  disputing  about 
the  modes  of  a  non-entity.  But  the  Christian  Divine 
takes  his  FAITH  for  a  Reality;  and  therefore  can 
never  deem  the  modes  of  it  to  be  indifferent;  but 
must  hold,  that,  of  the  various  opinions  arising  from 
thence,  some,  with  their  truths,  may  be  useful,  and 
some,  with  their  errors,  hurtful  to  Society :  So  that 
1 8  when, 


Chap.  III.]  OF    GRACE.  44l 

when,  about  these  modes,  Churches  differ,  they  be 
come  as  reasonably  the  subject  of  serious  enquiry, 
as  any  other  real  entities  whatsoever ;  and  have  their 
importance  in  proportion  to  their  good  or  bad  inim* 
ence  on  Truth  and  Virtue.  In  a  word,  POLI-.MIC 
DIVINITY  is,  in  the  fancy  of  a  Libertine,  a  squabble 
for  preference  between  two  Falsehoods;  in  which, 
there  is  room  enough  for  ridicule :  liut  on  the  Prin 
ciples  of  a  Believer,  it  is  a  contest  between  Truth  and 
Falsehood ;  in  which,  there  is  nothing  to  be  laughed 
at,  though  much  to  be  lamented. 


CHAP.    III. 

BUT  there  was  never  yet  evfrawrance,  either  of 
UNBELIEVER  or  FANATIC,  whici;  the  over-zealous 
Advocate  of  Religion  and  sober  Piety  hath  not  un 
happily  opposed  by  a  contrary,  and  frequently  by  as 
mischievous  an  extreme. 

We  have  seen  how  unwarily  some  of  them  have 
been  drawn  in  to  depreciate  and  to  degrade  HUMAN 
REASON*  when  their  Adversaries  had  too  extravagant 
ly  advanced  it.  They  have,  at  other  times,  advanced 
it  as  extravagantly,  when  their  Adversaries  were  in  an 
humour  to  vilify  and  disgrace  it. 

To  understand  what  I  mean,  wo  must  go  a  little 
back  in  the  History  of  Fanatic'tun:  And  They,  whom 
this  matter  most  concerns,  will  need  no  other  proof 
of  the  folly  of  such  a  conduct  than  what  arises  from 
the  historical  detection  ot  it. 

The  REDEMPTION  OP  MANKIND  by  the  death  of 
Christ,  and  the  SACRIFICE  of  himsdf  upon  the  Cross, 
together  with  its  consequent  Doctrine  of  JUSTJFIC A* 


442  Tim     DOCTH  1  N  i:       rl^ok  III. 

•iro\  it  FAITH  ALOITE,  irene  the  gred  d'o,pei-prin- 

<  ipli  ,  on  which  PKOII  .YI  •  VMS.M  v.,r  founded,  (HI  tlic 
in  t  :<«-neial  S'-paration  horn  tiie  Church  of  Home: 
hy  some,  perhaps,  earn* d  too  far,  in  their  xral  lor 
^•tlin"  it.  ;il.  ;i  mortal  di  tance  from  the  1'tipi.xh  Doc- 
tiitie.  » 4  A/c/v/.v ;  tin:  ENmtaniC fCblMH amOO^t U  l;<ii;^ 
made  on  ;i.  prel.c-nce  th;it  t.hef^h'irrh  ol  Kni'.l.uid  linri 
not  recedrd  i;u  enough  liorn  Route.  llovve.vei',  \n-\\\£ 
( iu, pel  l'i  inr-iplf  -,,  they  were  held  to  he  the  h;id"e  ul 
tnif:  I'l'-t'-.t-juvi  .in  hy  ;ill  :  When  t.lir:  {<init;jns  (first 
rhiven  hy  I'ei  ,i cnlion  hoin  i  e!r,>ioir,  into  civil  Faction, 
;itid  hy  th?  \t  l';i'-t.ion  ,  he;ited,  on  hol.h  sidr-s,  into 
I'jj!1  n)  eiuiied  the  doriiiiK  o\  .hi.\ii//c(/lion,  by 

I'tul'n  alone  inio  a  d;in;'eroi!S  and  iinpui-r;  Antluomi- 
tinlun:  For  it  is  of  the  very  nature  ol  Knthn  i,i  \\\  to 
iun  all  Itfl  notion  to  exlier^-  ,.  rj'he,  speculation  \\as 

.1  ;ii!.cr  rediir-  d  to  pra'tice,  hy  inr  an  ,  (>1  l':a;  I  n.i 
v.  iiieh  a!-\  a\  \  ini  (6  I  it'  elf  with  I'Jit.hii   ia  .in,  \\  \\(  n 
the  l^tnt'Uit'  hccom        Cl      Igcd    in   1'olilir:,.      '1  he,  con-. 

ions  ulii(  h  ensued  are  well  l.nown  :  And  no  small 
j-.hare  oi  t!i«  ,n  ha  h-en  a  iCI  ihed  to  this  impious  ahuse 
of  the  ihrtiinr  ol  .lii.\lijic:itioti  In/  l\ulli  tilum: ;  lirst, 
hv  (!••;,, ruatii!"  MoKAi.nv,  and  then  hy  <//S//C//.Y///<_: 
^itli  it. 

VVlii'i)  the  COVSTMI  'i  io\  \\,j;  rr'tored,  and  had 
lnou'jht  into  ri'.-.dil  tho  •  i  /.  I'aiihd  Divines  \\Jiom 
the  madii'  s  i,\'  tlic  pn  rrdinr«  time  :-;  had  di  iven  into 

oh.scni  it  /,  the  Church d  England,  still  smarting  with 

Ihe  uonnds  it.  had  received  I'rojn  the  ulniM  oi"  the 
:t  (io:,j>el  p!  ineiples  (/i  I-'AITH,  very  u  i  ely  l;ihoin - 
cd  to  rCAtOrC  MoitAi.rrv,  the  other  r::,ential  part  of 
lh.  Chris'i.in  S'-.-tem,  to  its  Rights  in  the  joint  direc 
tion  oi  the  l'\iilhnil.  Heine,  tlic  encoiira;jemrnt  thn 
Church  pave  to  those  nuhle  I  )\ ,,c(,urses,  uliicli  did 
.,IM!I  credit  to  Religion,  in  th'j  licciitiuii-S  times  oi' 


Chap.  Ill]  OF    GRACE.  443 

Charles  the  Second,  composed  by  these  learned  and 
pious  men,  whom  Zealots  abused  by  the  nickname  of 
LATITUDINARIAN  Divines.    Bui  the  reputation  they 
acquired  by  so  effectually  suppressing  these  rank  Seeds 
of  Fanaticism,    made   their  Successors  ambitious  of 
sharing  with  them  in  the  same   honours  :  a  laudable 
ambition !  but  men  have  ever  a  vain  passion  for  im 
proving  upon  those  who  went  before.     The  Church 
was  now  triumphant;  the   Sectaries  were  humbled; 
sometimes  oppressed ;  always  regarded  with  an  eve  of 
jealousy  and  aversion  ;  till  at  length  this  Gospel-prin 
ciple  of  FAITH  came  to  be  esteemed  by  many,   as 
Fanatical:  And  they,  who   understood   its  true" Ori 
ginal,  found  so  much  difficulty  in  adjusting  the  distinct 
llights  of  GRACE  and  MORALITY,  that,  by  the  time 
this  Century  commenced,  things  were  come  to  such  a 
pass  (MORALITY  was  advanced  so  high,  and  FAITH 
so  frittered  into  nonsense),  thuC.  a   new  definition  of 
our  Religion,  in  opposition  to  its  Founders,  and  un 
known  to  its  early  Followers,  was  grown  to  be  the 
fashionable  tenet  of  the  times  :  and  Christianity,  which 
till  now  had  been  understood   as  but  coeval  with  RE- 
DEMPTIOX,  was  henceforth  to  be  esteemed  as  old  as 
the   CREATION  :    an  eminent    Divine   having,    in  a 
public   Discourse,  asserted,  without  circumstance  or 
restriction,  that  Christianity   was  a  rcpublication  of 
the  Religion   of  Nature.     Thus,    between  the   two 
opposite  Parties  of  Divines,  we  were,  at  the   same 
time,  left  without  either  natural  or  revealed  Religion. 
The  one,  we  see,  denied  the  very  being  of  the  natural] 
and  the  other  assured  us  that  the  revealed  was  nothing 
else  than  that  exploded  nonentity. 

This  REPUBLICATIOX  had,  in  effect,  been  talked 
of  before,  by  many  others  of  equal  reputation:  but 
being  now  explained,  and  ready  to  be  received  as  the 

established 


444  THE    DOCTRINE       [Book  III. 

established  System,  our  Adversaries  began  to  think 
it  time  to  check  so  ridiculous  a  triumph ;  and  to  dis 
credit  Religion  (which  they  have  always  done  with 
much  success)  on  the  principles  of  its  Defenders.  For 
with  the  wanton  Libertine, 

"  It  is  the  sport,  to  see 

"  The  Engineer  hoist  with  his  own  Petar.'V 

And  one  of  the  Party,  an  Enemy,  equally  determined, 
to  Grace  and  Morality,  composed  that  famous  Book, 
intitled,  Christianity  as  Old  as  the  Creation,  to  decry 
all  Revelation  whatsoever,  on  this  very  principle  of  a 
REPUBLICATION  ;  so  unhappily  conceived  by  modern 
Orthodoxy,  as  the  surest  way  of  evincing  the  reason 
ableness  of  the  GOSPEL. 

The  like  Advantage  (to  put  things  of  a  sort  together, 
for  the  better  illustration  of  the  Subject),  had,  about 
the  same  time,  been  taken  of  our  indiscretions  by 
another  of  these  men ;  and  as  the  reasoning  of  TINDAL 
was  directed  to  depreciate  the  Work  of  REDEMPTION, 
so  the  argument  of  COLLINS  was  inforced  to  insult 
the  Character  of  the  REDEEMER.  The  general  body 
of  the  PROPHECIES  which  relate  to  JESUS,  were,  for 
certain  great  ends  of  Providence,  so  contrived,  as  to 
have  a  primary  accomplishment  in  the  events  of  the 
Mosaic  Dispensation,  and  a  secondary  and  final  com 
pletion  in  the  birth  and  ministry  and  sufferings  of 
Jesus  the  Messiah.  But  the  admirable  contrivance  of 
divine  Wisdom,  in  giving  to  those  Predictions  a  pri 
mary  and  a  secondary  accomplishment,  being  either 
soon  forgotten,  or  generally  overlooked,  it  produced 
lar^e  swarms  of  fanciful  and  fanatic  Allegorists,  who 
filled  the  Church  with  extravagant  whimsies  equally 
dishonourable  to  Reason  and  Religion.  Amidst  so 
thick  a  cloud  of  nonsense,  the  logical  propriety  as  well 

as 


Chap.  III.]  OF   GRACE.  445 

as  moral Jitness  of  a  secondary  sense  in  the  Prophecies 
relating  to  Jesus,  being  swallowed  up  and  lost,  some 
bold  and  hasty  men,  ever  least  qualified  to  distinguish 
between  the  use  and  the  abuse  of  a  positive  institu 
tion,  ventured  to  condemn  all  secondary  senses,  as 
irrational  and  fanatical ;  and  finding  but  few  Prophe 
cies  which  relate  to  the  MESSIAH,  in  the  primary, 
they  were  forced  upon  the  desperate  expedient  of 
holding,  that  the  Jews,  or  other  Enemies  of  Christi 
anity,  had  adulterated  and  corrupted  the  whole  body 
of  these  Prophecies,  as  they  stand  at  present  in  our 
Bibles.  But  no  sooner  had  Mr.  Collins  got  these 
rash  Men  at  this  advantage,  than  he  insulted  them 
with  his  Discourse  on  the  Grounds  and  Reasons  of 
the  Christian  Religion :  In  which  he  attempts  to  over 
throw  the  Gospel  on  these  two  principles  :  1st,  That 
(by  the  confession  of  his  Adversaries)  &  secondary  sense 
of  Prophecies  is  irrational  and  fanatical ;  And  2dly, 
That  (by  the  confession  of  all  sober  men)  the  Jews 
had  not  corrupted  or  adulterated  their  Bible.  His 
conclusion  is,  that  the  Christian  Religion  stands  on 
no  solid  grounds  or  reasons;  Jesus  not  having,  as  he 
pretended,  been  foretold  under  the  Character  of  the 
MESSIAH  of  the  Jews. — And  here,  let  it  be  observed, 
that  these  works  of  Tindal  and  Collins,  both  rising  on 
the  advantage  taken  of  our  follies,  are  the  two  most 
artful  and  desperate  attacks  on  Revelation,  that  were 
ever  made  since  the  times  of  Celsus  and  Porphyry. 

I  have  attempted  to  give  a  good  Account  of  Mr. 
Collins's  Grounds  and  Reasons  cf  the  Christian  Reli 
gion  elsewhere  *,  by  confuting  his  first  Proposition, 
on  which  the  whole  attack  rises,  and  shewing  the 
logical  propriety  and  moral  fitness  of  SECOND  ART 
of  Prophecy.  I  shall  hereafter  have  occasion 

*  Divine  Legation,  Book  vi.  §  5,  6. 

to 


446  THE    DOCTRINE        [Book  IIL 

to  do  equal  justice  to  Mr.  Tindal's  Christianity  as  Old 
as  the  Creation.  For  the  only  effectual  way  of  answer 
ing  these>  as  indeed  all  others  of  the  like  kind,  is  to 
renounce  ail  fanciful  Systems,  and  to  preserve  invio 
late  the  great  Principles  of  the  Mosaic  Law  and  the 
Gospel  of  Jesus ;  Principles  which  discover  themselves, 
and  indeed  obtrude  themselves  upon  us,  on  a  careful 
study  of  those  two  connected  Dispensations.  When 
these  Principles  are  once  forsaken,  there  is  no  hurtful 
indiscretion  to  which  the  ablest  Divines  are  not  sub 
ject  ;  and  of  which  Unbelievers  have  not  taken  ad 
vantage*  I  shall,  from  amongst  many,  select  an  in 
stance  or  two,  least  likely  to  give  offence.  The  Ad 
vocates  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  to  evade  the  charge 
of  Idolatry,  with  which  they  are  urged  by  the  Re- 
formed,  pretend  that  this  crime  consists  in  giving  the 
worship,  duetto  the  supreme  GOD,  to  inferior  Beings. 
The  excellent  Bishop  Stillingfleet,  in  opposing  this 
subterfuge,  attempted  to  prove,  that  the  most  civilized 
Pagans,  who  are  confessed  to  be  Idolaters,  did  not 
give  the  honours  due  to  \hefirst  Cause  to  their  infe 
rior  Gods;  Hit  first  Cause,  as  he  pretends,  being 
worshipped  by  them,  as  such :  An  assertion,  which, 
if  true,  would  confute  all  that  the  Prophets  and 
Apostles  say  concerning  the  state  and  condition  of  the 
Pagan  World.  Again,  the  very  learned  Dr.  Prideaux, 
to  do  honour  to  his  exiled  Jens,  adopts,  from  Hyde 
and  a  rabble  of  lying  Orientalists,  the  idle  fable  of  a 
Philosophic  Zoroaster,  the  subverter  of  Idolatry  in 
Persia :  Little  attentive  the  while,  to  the  more  plau 
sible  conclusion  of  Unbelievers,  from  the  same  fact; 
who  pretend,  that  these  Jews,  so  prone  to  Idolatry 
before  their  Captivity,  were  instructed  during  its  con 
tinuance,  by  this  Zoroaster,  in  a  better  Theology, 
which  gave  them  juster  notions  of  the  Divine  Nature, 

and 


Chap.  III.]  OF   GRACE.  447 

and  consequently,  of  a  Crime  that,  ever  afterwards,  they 
held  in  abhorrence.  A  conclusion  pushed  with  great 
advantage  by  Collins  and  Morgan,  on  the  ground 
thus  prepared  by  Hyde,  and  further  smoothed  for 
them  by  Dr.  Prideaux. 

But  to  go  on  with  our  subject,  Tindal's  Christianity 
as  Old  as  the  Creation. 

This  terrible  advantage  taken  of  a  Principle  become 
fashionably  orthodox,  greatly  alarmed  all  serious  men; 
and  the  feeble  Answers  given  to  it,  on  that  Principle, 
were  so  little  satisfactory,  that  a  commendable  effort 
was  made,  by  some  whose  Stations  supported  them 
in  the  attempt,  to  bring  back  the  slighted  Doctrine 
of  REDEMPTION,  and  to  reinstate  it  in  its  ancient 
Credit.  And  a  worthy  Bishop  of  London  was  amongst 
the  first  to  repair  the  mischief,  which  the  mistaken 
labours  of  his  no  less  worthy  Successor  had  unwittingly 
occasioned.  So  that,  in  a  little  time,  we  had  regained 
much  of  the  ground  that  had  been  lost,  and  were 
ready  to  replace  the  national  Faith  once  ao;ain  on  its 
old  Gospel-foundation ;  in  spite  of  the  silly  pains  of 
a  very  equivocal  Divine,  who  published  a  Book,  in 
opposition  to  the  returning  Current,  intitled,  The 
Scripture  Doctrine  of  Redemption,  which  was  to  prove 
that  in  reality  there  was  no  such  thing:  When  the  old 
puritan  Fanaticism  revived  under  the  new  name  of 
Methodism ;  and,  as  it  spread,  carried  once  more  (as 
far  as  the  difference  of  times  would  allow)  those 
Gospel-principles  to  their  old  abusive  extremes. 

This  soon  put  a  stop  to  the  recovery  of  that  middle 
way,  in  which  Grace  and  Morality  are  preserved  in 
their  respective  rights:  an  unhappy  disposition  now 
appearing  in  several  Opposers  of  this  late  revived 
fanaticism,  to  return  back  to  the  old  latitudinanan 
excesses. 

And 


448  THE   DOCTRINE      [Book  III, 

And  now  comes  in  (I  hope,  not  improperly)  the 
Caution,  for  the  sake  of  which  I  have  given  this  long 
detail  of  our  former  miscarriages,  to  wain  men  against 
a  repetition  of  them. 

For  these  opposed  doctrines  of  a  REDEMPTION 
and  a  REPUBLIC  AT  ION  are  not  matters  of  so  slight 
moment,  that  either  of  them  may  be  taken  up,  or  laid 
down  at  pleasure,  just  as  we  are  pressed,  on  the  one 
band,  by  Infidelity  ^  or  on  the  other,  by  Fanaticism. 

The  DocTixiNE  OF  REDEMPTION,  is  the  primum 
mobile  of  the  Gospel-System.  To  this  the  Church 
must  steadily  adhere,  let  the  storm,  against  it,  beat 
from  what  quarter  it  may.  It  is  the  first  duty  of 
the  Ministers  of  Religion,  to  secure  this  great  Founda 
tion  :  They  may  then,  with  safety,  and  not  with  the 
less  success,  push  the  Enemies  of  the  Church,  the 
Enemies  of  their  Order,  nay,  even  the  Enemies  of 
their  own  peculiar  opinions,  with  all  the  force  they 
are  able ;  but  ever,  as  we  say,  in  subserviency  to  the 
EVERLASTING  GOSPEL,  wiiose  main  Pillar  is  this 
Doctrine  of  Redemption. — How  essential  a  part  it  is 
of  the  Gospel-Economy  (interpreted  by  God's  general 
Dispensation,  revealed  to  mankind,  of  which  the 
Gospel-Economy  is  the  completion),  and  how  agree 
able  it  is  to  what  the  best  and  most  received  Philo 
sophy  teacheth  us,  concerning  the  relations  between 
the  creature  and  the  Creator,  shall  be  considered  at 
large  in  its  proper  place  *. 

I.  What  better  suits  the  melancholy  subject  we  are 
now-  upon,  namely,  the  advantages  given  to  the  com 
mon  Enemy  by  those,  who,  to  get  rid  of  some  urgent 
difficulty,  are  apt  to  forsake  their  Foundations,  will 
be  to  shew  the  various  and  unthought-of  mischiefs 

*  Divine  Legation,  JBouk  IX» 

which 


Chap.  III.]  OF    GRACE.  449 

which  arise  from  the  folly  of  attempting  to  change  the 
nature  of  the  Gospel-Economy  from  a  Redemption  of 
Mankind  to  a  Republieation  of  the  Religion  of  Na- 
tiire.  A  folly,  by  which  the  great  Author  of  our 
Salvation  becomes  dishonoured,  and  the  Christian 
Faith  exposed  to  the  perpetual  Insults  of  Libertines 
and  Unbelievers. 

] .  For  he  who  considers  Jesus  only  in  the  light  of 
a  Republishcr  of  the  Law  of  Nature,  can  hardly  en 
tertain  a  higher  opinion  of  the  SAVIOUR  OF  Tin; 
WORLD  than  some  have  done  of  SOCRATES,  whom 
Erasmus  esteemed  an  object  of  devotion,  and  many 
a  better  Protestant  hath  thought  to  be  divinely  in 
spired.  For  was  not  Socrates,  by  his  preaching  up 
moral  virtue,  and  by  his  dying  to  bear  witness  to  the 
unity  of  the  Godhead,  made,  to  the  Grecian  People, 
and  (by  means  of  their  extended  commerce  of  polite 
ness)  to  the  rest  of  mankind,  Wisdom  and  Righteous 
ness?  And  what  more  was  Jesus,  though  the  Apostle 
adds  to  those  two  attributes,  these  two  other,  of 
Sanctt/icatifm  mid  Redemption?  for,  according  to  the 
principles  of  this  paganized  Christianity,  his  titles  of 
MESSIAH  and  REDEEMER  are  reduced  to  mere  figu 
rative  and  accommodated  terms, 

2.  As  this  Theology  degrades  Jesus  to  the  lo\r 
condition  of  a  Grecian  Sophist;  so  it  renders  his  Re 
ligion  obnoxious  to  the  insults  of  every  daring  Im 
postor. 

He  was  sent,  say  these  new  Doctors  of  the  Church, 
to  teach  mankind  the  worship  of  the  true  God,  and 
the  practice  of  moral  righteousness*. 

«  Tlwg 

*  A  celebrated  Frenchman,  who  \viitcg  on  all  subjects,  and, 

on  all,  with  equal  judgment  and  capacity,  knew  b«U*r,  perhaps, 

VOL.  VJJI.  G  c  whut 


450  THE    DOCTRINE         [Book  III. 

"  This  will  be  readily  allowed,  replies  an  understand 
ing  MAHOMETAN  :  And  on  this  very  principle,  WE 
hold,  that  when  Jesus  had  dons  his  office  ;  and  man 
kind  had  again  relapsed,  into  anti-christian  Idolatry 
and  Poly  theism  ,  as  before  into  Pagan,  God  sent  OUR 
PROPHET,  who  worked  the  like  sudden  and  sensible 
reformation  in  the  NORTH-EAST,  that  your  Prophet 
did  in  the  NORTH-WEST." 

And  this  reply,  he  makes  on  the  very  principles  of 
his  ALCORAN  ;  which  (with  professions  of  the  highest 
veneration  for  the  character  of  JESUS)  denies  his  pro 
per  Divinity,  and  at  the  same  time,  his  death  on  the 
cross.  But  why,  it  may  be  asked,  was  this  aversion  to 
the  PASSION  of  One  whom  the  Alcoran  makes  a  Mor 
tal  ?  For  this  plain  reason  :  Mahomet,  who  wanted  the 
refinement  of  our  modern  Accomviodators,  plainly  saw 
that  the  doctrine  of  REDEMPTION  followed  the  passion  ; 
completed  the  Scheme  of  Revelation  ;  and  shut  out 
all  his  bold  pretences. 

M.  Otter,  an  intelligent  Frenchman  of  the  Academy 
Royal  of  Inscriptions,  8$c.  tells  us  of  a  conference  he 
had  with  a  learned  Persian.  The  Mussulman  said, 
They  reverenced  all  our  sacred  Writings  except  those 
of  St.  PAUL  —  qiClh  respect  ent  tons,  except  6  Saint 
Paul*.  Why  this  exception?  I  answer,  On  the  Ma 
hometan  Principle,  that  Christianity  is  only  a  repub- 
lication  of  the  Religion  of  Nature:  for  St.  PAUL  is 
full  of  the  doctrine  of  REDEMPTION  ;  explains  the 

Christian 


he  was  about  than  these  Divines,  when  he  went  further,  and 
affirmed,  That  Christianity  is  not  only  no  more  than  the  Religion 
of  Nature  perfected,  but  that  it  could  not  possibly  be  any  more. 
—  ."  Notre  Religion  revelee  ii'est  meme,  et  nc  pouvoit  etre,  que 
cette  Loi  naturelle  perfectionnee.v  Discours  sur  le  Thcisme,  par 
M.de  Voltaire. 

*  Voiage  en  Turque  «t  en  Perse,  vol.  i.  p.  22. 


Chap.  III.]  OF    GRACE.  451 

Christian  System  by  it,  and  makes  the  whole  Faith 
depend  upon  it. 

What  now  has  our  rational  Republisher  to  oppose  to 
this  modest  Apology  for  Ismaelism  ? 

All  he  has  to  say  is  this,  "  That  Jesus  and  his  Apos 
tles  have  every  where  intimated,  that  the  Gospel  is  the 
last  of  God's  Dispensations;  on  the  terms  of  which  our 
final  doom  is  to  be  decided :  so  that  all  future  Preten 
ders  to  the  like  Office  and  Character  must  needs  be 
deemed  Impostors." 

But  here  a  DEIST  would  come  in,  to  take  advan 
tage  of  our  distress ;  for  (as  we  have  said  more  than 
once)  it  may  be  observed  alike  of  all  these  shifting 
defences,  on  fanciful,  and  unscriptural  Systems,  that 
they  only  supply  new  arms  to  the  various  Adversaries 
of  our  Faith ;  a  Deist,  I  say,  would  be  ready  to  reply, 
"  That  it  is  indeed  true  that  Jesus  hath  declared  his 
own  Mission  to  be  the  LAST  :  but  that  this  is  a  sly 
contrivance,  put  in  use  by  every  pretended  Messenger 
from  Heaven,  in  order  to  perpetuate  his  own  Scheme, 
and  to  obviate  the  danger  of  an  antiquated  authority. 
The  Impostor,  MAHOMET  himself,  hath  done  it.  He, 
who  here  obtrudes  his  armed  pretensions  upon  us,  hath 
secured  the  duration  of  his  sensual  Religion  by  the  very 
same  expedient :  a  thing,  in  his  ideas,  so  much  of 
course,  that  he  did  not  even  object  to  JESUS'S  use  of  it, 
who  employed  it  before  Him  ;  and  for  no  other  purpose 
than  to  cut  oft*  all  following  pretensions  to  the  like 
Character.  On  the  contrary,  He  avowed  and  main 
tained  the  general  truth  of  the  Nazarite's  Commission. 
Now  (pursues  the  Deist)  a  method  employed  by  a  con 
fessed  Impostor  is  taken  up  with  an  ill  grace  by  the 
defender  of  true  Religion.  But  I  draw  a  further  con 
sequence  (says  he)  against  the  GOSPEL,  from  this  re- 

G  Q  2  presentation 


452  THE    DOCTRINE        [Book  III. 

presentation  of  Christianity.  For  if  the  preaching  of 
moral  truth  and  righteousness  were  the  whole  of  JESUS'S 
Character  and  Office,  then  his  Mission  did  not  answer 
its  end,  the  lasting  reformation  of  mankind,  in  the 
knowledge  of  God,  and  in  the  practice  of  Virtue:  since 
the  world  soon  fell  back  again  into  the  state  from  which 
JESUS  had  delivered  it;  as  appears  from  the  history 
of  the  times  in  which  MAHOMET  appeared,  and  the 
advantages  he  made  of  that  degeneracy." 

II.  Thus  subjected  to  the  insults  and  injuries  of  all 
sorts  of  Impostors,  who  set  themselves  to  delude  the 
credulous,  cither  by  inventing  NEW  Revelations  or  by 
decrying  the  OLD,  do  these  Rejntbtishcrs  expose  the 
holy  faith  of  JESUS:  that  Faith,  which,  we  are  told, 
was  founded  on  a  rock,  impregnable  to  Men  and 
Demons ;  to  the  sophisms  of  Infidelity,  and  the  pres 
tiges  of  Imposture  !  And  so  indeed  it  is,  if  we  will  take 
it  as  we  find  it ;  if  we  will  receive  it  as  it  came  from 
above ;  if  we  will  preserve  it  pure  and  entire  as  it  was 
delivered  to  the  Saints,  under  the  idea  of  THE  RE 
DEMPTION  OF  THE  WORLD,  BY  THE  SON  OF  GoD, 
IX  THE  VOLUNTARY  SACRIFICE  OF  HIMSELF  UPON" 
THE  CROSS. 

This  secures  the  Character  of  JESUS  from  the  insults 
of  false  Pretenders  ;  and  his  GOSPEL  from  the  injuries 
of  false  lleasoncrs. 

i.  For,  first  of  all,  if  JESUS  did,  indeed,  redeem 
Mankind,  .and  restore  them  to  their  lost  Inheritance; 
the  scheme  and  progress  of  Revelation  is  completed  : 
which  beginning  at  the  LAPSE,  naturally  and  neces 
sarily  ends  in  the  restoration  and  recovery  of  LIFE 
AND  IMMORTALITY  by  the  death  and  passion  of  our 
Lord.  CHRISTIANITY  considered  in  this  view  (and 
in  this  view  only,  does  SCRIPTURE  give  it  us  to  don- 
15  sider) 


Chap,  III.]  OF    GRACE. 

sider)  soon  detects  all  the  artful  pretences  of  Impos 
ture  ;  and  secures  its  own  honour  by  virtue  of  its  very 
Essence:  the  great  scene  of  Providence  being  now 
closed,  in  a  full  completion  of  its  One,  regular,  entire, 
and  eternal  purpose. 

2.  Secondly,  if  JESUS  did  indeed  redeem  mankind, 
then  did  he  neither  preach  nor  die  in  vain  :  it  not  being 
in  man's  power,  with  all  his  malice  and  pcrverseness, 
to  defeat  or  make  void  the  great  purpose  of  his 
Coining.  For  though  one  part  of  his  Mission  ^ accord 
ing  to  Paul)  was  to  instruct  the  world  inJl'Mom* 
and  Righteousness,  which  it  was  in  man's  power  to 
forget  and  neglect ;  yet,  what  (Paul  tells  us)  is  chiefly 
essential  in  his  Character,  and  peculiar  to  his  Office, 
the  Sitnctification  and  Redemption  of  the  World,  Man 
could  not  frustrate  nor  render  ineffectual :  For  it  is 
not  in  man's  power  to  make  that  to  be  undone  which 
is  once  Jone  and  perfected. 

The  fasliilious  Caviller  f  therefore  hath  employed  his 
pains  to  little  purpose  in  attempting  to  discredit  Reve 
lation  from  this  topic,  The  moral  slate  of  the  world, 
before  and  since  the  coming  oj  Christ.  For,  besides 
what  one  might  venture  to  affirm,  that,  when  die  com 
parison  is  fully  and  impartially  scrutinized,  the  advan 
tage  will  be  found  to  lie  on  the  side  of  our  Religion: 
yet,  supposing  the  Truths  preached  by  JESUS,  and  the 
Assistance  given  by  the  Holy  SPIRIT,  have  not  much 
improved  the  general  morals  of  mankind  ;  How  does 
this  tend  to  the  discredit  of  the  Gospel  ?  unless  it  can 
be  shewn  that  the  Gospel  hath  no  natural  tendency  to 
make  men  better.  But  this  is  so  desperate  an  under 
taking,  that,  I  believe,  Infidelity  will  hardly  be  per 
suaded  to  engage  in  it.  Indeed  the  contrary  is  so  true, 
that,  (as  I  have  shewn  elsewhere)  when  you  lav  toge- 

*  i  Cor.  i.  30.  t  Lord  Bolingbroke. 

ther 


454  THE    DOCTRINE         [Book  III. 

ther  the  state  of  PAGAN  and  CHRISTIAN  Morals,  one 
manifest  and  essential  difference  is  found  between  them; 
whieh  is  this,  That  in  the  Gentile  world,  men  often 
acted  wrong  UPON  PRINCIPLE  ;  in  the  Christian 
always  AGAINST  PRINCIPLE*.  Now,  not  to  insist 
upon  the  necessary  restraint  this  must  needs  be  upon 
Vice ;  it  plainly  demonstrates  that  the  NATURAL  TEN 
DENCY  of  the  Gospel  is  to  make  men  virtuous  :  And, 
to  draw  them  by  a  stronger  attraction,  did  not  suit  the 
genius  of  a  rational  Religion,  whose  objects  were  free 
Agents. 

But  the  proper  answer  to  this  idle  cavil  arises  from 
the  explanation  given  above.  To  Instruct  the  world  in 
Wisdom  and  Righteousness  was  but  the  secondary  end 
of  Christ's  Mission.  The  FIRST  and  primary,  was  to 
become  its  SANCTIFICATION  and  REDEMPTION  : 
That  must  needs  t)e  common  to  every  Revelation 
coming  from  God ;  This  is  peculiar  to  the  Christian  : 
and  this,  as  we  have  shewn,  cannot  possibly  be  frus 
trated,  or  rendered  ineffectual. 

To  conclude  from  what  hath  been  said  :  As  we 
should  not  affect  to  pry  into  the  nature  of  those  things 
'which  God  hath  been  pleased  to  withhold  from  our 
search,  and  to  cover  with  the  sacred  veil  of  Mystery; 
so  neither  should  we  reject  a  Truth,  expressly  deli 
vered,  because  we  may  not  fully  comprehend  the  whole 
reason  on  which  it  stands.  In  a  word,  as  we  should 
not  venture  to  go  on  where  the  silence  of  Scripture 
directs  us  to  stop ;  so  neither  should  we  presume  to 
stop  where,  with  so  loud  a  voice,  it  commandeth  us  to 
go  on. 

The  sum  of  all  then  is  this  :  REASON  biddeth  us  to 
keep  a  IIEAN  :  The  great  Philosopher  informeth  us 

•  Div.  Leg.  Book  iv.  $  2. 

that 


Chap.  III.]  OF    GRACE. 

that  NATURE  is  not  able  to  keep  a  MEAX  *.  What 
remains  but  that  we  fly  to  GRACE,  which,  the  greater 
Apostle  assures  us,  is  able  :  for,  the  Spirit  helpetk  cur 
infirmities  f.  Nor  will  there  be  any  clanger  (when,  in 
such  a  disposition,  we  apply  to  this  Guide  of  truth) 
of  abusing  its  credit  by  fanatical  extremes;  for.  to 
establish  the  heart  with  Grace,  the  same  Apostle  in 
forms  us,  is  the  only  way  to  prevent  our  being  carritd 
about  with  the  divers  and  strange  Doctrine*  of  De 
ceivers  £. 

*  Natura  moduin  tencre  nescia  cst.    BAC. 
tRom.  viii.  26.  ;  Heb.  xiii.    . 


END    OF    THE    EIGHTH     VOLU.MJC. 


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